


The Rings

by MyrJuhl



Category: Alexander (2004)
Genre: Colin Farrell-movie verse, Drama, F/M, Filmverse, Gary Stretch-movie verse, Hurt/Comfort, Jared Leto-movie verse - Freeform, Kidnapping, M/M, antiquity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:51:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2371766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyrJuhl/pseuds/MyrJuhl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hephaestion is taken away from his hometown and best friend Alexander, when they were just 11 and 10 years old.<br/>They meet again under the worst of circumstances several years later. Alexander is King of Persia - Hephaestion is definitely not part of upper society anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rings

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is fanon. I have not tried to match the characters’ age with that of real events.
> 
> The events never happened. This fic is for entertainment purposes only, not profit. I, the author, make no claim through this work as to the fictive characters/ actual lives/ preferences/ activities of the people mentioned herein.  
> Beta: alexcat

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Aristotle let his gaze travel across the bright faces of his promising young students. They all seemed eager to fulfil the assignment, even the prince, Alexander and his closest friend, Hephaestion, despite the old teacher had advised Alexander not to team up with the one year older Hephaestion. He would send his young pupils to go search for endurance and excellence. 

The task was open; each boy should seek the answer for himself. Well, Alexander and Hephaestion were so close, separating them in itself would be a task, but they had seemed eager when the old tutor suggested it.

Taking his advice, the boys would split up for the task tomorrow. Alexander had chosen the most difficult partner in the sarcastic spoken Cassander and Hephaestion, the easy going Sethardies, who would be a great help in building defences out of nothing.

After the lessons had ended late in the afternoon, the two friends met in the woods. They had secret places to meet when they wanted privacy from their friends, knowing they did and said things to each other boys their age normally didn’t. The urge to touch skin and kiss each other’s lips usually came over them shortly after arriving to one of their sanctuaries where they could be undisturbed. 

Sitting on the ground and talk about school, parents, friends, training, war, sharing dreams for the future, Alexander didn’t feel like the prince. He felt like they were two halves of one. Hephaestion was he and he was Hephaestion. From time to time, one of them would lean over and they’d share a kiss, thereafter, they’d continue their conversation and feel bonded and loved by each other. 

They built a fire as they prepared a small ceremony, wanting to make a friendship bond that branded their union for eternity. They knew it would be painful, but they were prepared to endure this for each other. Putting each their signet ring on a stick into the fire, they heated up the metal.

“Alexander, we will do this as tokens of our own endurance and that we do not fear the pain but embrace it,” Hephaestion said, his blue eyes showing dread already.

Alexander pretended he did not see it, knowing his own fear was plain to observe as well.

“Yes, my Hephaestion. We do this simultaneously though, and crying out is appropriate for such a manly deed,” the blond prince said, smiling bravely.

Hephaestion nodded seriously, and they turned their attention to the rings now glowing hot, ready for use.

Each taking his own stick with the ring attached to the end, they bared their hips, counted to three, and pressed the scorching iron against the other's left hipbones. They screamed in agonized pain and jolted away from the source. Tears streamed down their faces, but it was more important they had done it. 

“Oh dear Gods,” Hephaestion cried, his fingers trembled, twisting his body to examine the wound. 

Panting with agony, Alexander quickly offered a blob of some ill-odoured clay his mother had prepared for them. Ah yes, she knew what they were up to and decided to help them with the ceremony.

Hephaestion’s cries ceased, as the cooling feeling started to dull the ache. Grateful, he fell to his knees and soon he was able to think coherently again.

Tomorrow he would go to Sethardies’ house and they would be on their way, which meant he would soon be back with Alexander, whom he already missed.

Saying goodbye at the palace, Alexander embraced his beloved friend, and that was the last time he saw him.

 

When Hephaestion and Sethardies walked toward the woods the following morning, they wanted to get there early to perform their task before any of the other teams showed up.

Walking along a dusty pebbled path, the two boys were deeply engaged in conversation of how they wanted to spend the night in the open. They didn’t hear the riders before it was too late.

Both boys were captured and taken within seconds; no other traces were left except one of Hephaestion’s sandals.

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Ten years later.

Alexander turned and sighed, discovering the black-haired beauty was still asleep in his bed after a night of spent passion. The young King reached out to touch the delicate spine, but he pulled away and instead got out of bed to dress.

Today, he would inspect the city of Babylon. He had ruled Persia for a few weeks now; it was time to pay the fair city a visit. 

The King had set up some standards as to how he wanted to structure the domestic politics. He knew the rich were very rich and that the poor were very poor. To expect the wealthy to suddenly become merciful would be naïve, but he at least wanted to make sure everyone was fed. 

He didn’t trust the intelligence reports he was getting that his instructions already had its effect on the people’s standard of living. This he had to witness for himself; that his decree was taken seriously, or those failing him would be held responsible.

Before midday, he went out in the streets, dressed like a lesser nobleman with his golden curls covered to provide anonymity. If the word spread that the King was inspecting the city, he would not get a true impression of the state it was in. Everywhere the citizens would go to any extreme to present themselves most advantageously.

In his company were Ptolemy, Antigones, and Cleitus. They wandered about, noting the state of the markets, and preceded toward the more intimate parts of the city, when a mob of worked up men took their attention.

“No! No!” a man’s voice cried terrified.

Quickly, Alexander bullied his way to get to the centre of the action.

Before him, a filthy, skimpy clad creature was thrown to the ground and thereafter dragged toward a stump of a tree. People were shouting ‘thief’ as well as ‘whore’ after him and a few managed to get a good kick in as well.

Alexander stepped closer; he was appalled at the scene but had to know more before he took action. When the force of law and order appointed by Alexander’s native officials held the man by his wrists against the stump, the young King immediately understood the intention of the worked up crowd.

A soldier stood ready with a sword lifted over his head, in matter of seconds, he would cut off the poor individual’s hands.

“STOP! In the name of the King, this is as far as it goes!” Cleitus shouted. 

Interrupted, the men about to perform the cruelty turned to look at the nobles coming forth.

Cleitus grabbed the long hair covering the guilty man on the ground; a cry in pain as his head was whipped back by the force of Cleitus’ grasp. His face was now presented to Alexander who stepped further.

“This...” Antigones addressed the crowd,” will not be tolerated. You were not assigned to execute this kind of barbaric behaviour - not even against... thieves and whores alike,” he concluded. Cleitus wrinkled his nose; the odour from the thief’s body was extremely offensive.

Ptolemy was writing down the names of the officials gathered. He would deal with them later.

When Cleitus lessened the painful grip in the thief’s mop of long, greasy hair, the man collapsed in the dust. The tall black-haired soldier heard a soft whisper, “Thank you King Darius.” Cleitus spun on his heel and glared at the thief. 

“Darius!” he laughed at Alexander who hid a little smirk, but was also aware that it would not do that people of Babylon were not even aware they had a new King.

“No it is King Alexander, Thief! You are honoured by Macedonian government now.” 

The look in the thief’s eyes didn’t change and Alexander couldn’t grasp why he felt compelled by him. There were thousands of beggars, thieves and whores on these streets, but he had an urge to make a difference with this thin, starving man. He had saved his hands; maybe he would like to show his gratitude. He probably knew how to fight, and Alexander decided to enlist him in his army, once he was cleaned and fed.

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Walking back to the palace, the thief was brought along non-too gently. He tried to slip away from them, and Cleitus laughingly tied him and dragged him along, despite his pleas to return to the market.

Alexander went to his chambers. He commanded a thorough cleaning of the thief as well as a shave. He had requested nothing regarding his hair, so the servants tending the task just washed it and brushed it thoroughly after a much needed delousing.

Looking dully at the food presented before him in the servants’ dining area, the thief looked nervously at the woman who put it before him. She stood with her arms crossed looking down at him.

He didn’t dare touch it. He had almost lost his hands today because he was caught stealing bread to still the gnawing hunger in his empty stomach.

“Eat!” the woman barked, and jolted him into grabbing a chicken leg with shaking hands and ravenously gnawing the bird, stealing glances to each side. A jar of wine was put on the table and looking up at the woman, he didn't hesitate but filled a goblet and swallowed the contents. 

“You’re a pretty thing,” she said approvingly.

Looking up, he found there was no threat to be detected, and he realised that despite the woman was brisk, she had a heart and he just gave her a grimace to fit the complement.

“Now go to the soldier’s quarters and get your gear. You will be summoned when the King requires your presence, until then, make yourself at home. You do realise how lucky you are?” she asked.

Not meting her eyes this time, he just nodded, and wished he knew how to get out of the palace. When he came to the gigantic courtyard, a guard grabbed him to be escorted to the barracks, but before they even got out of the yard, someone else took his arm and without a word brought him back into the palace. Soon he realised where he was taken to the harem’s quarters, only his protests were ignored, and shortly after, silence fell.

 

A few days later, Alexander finished his tour around the city. The incident the other day had spread the news of his current whereabouts, and as he feared, he didn’t see much to put his finger on. He would repeat the inspection at some other time, but right now, he had to go through the reports that kept coming in. Hours later, he pushed aside the many parchments.

Getting up from behind his desk, Alexander undressed and went to bathe. Finding a page there waiting to assist him, he dismissed him. “Fetch me a boy from the harem. I want company.”

Stepping into the water, Alexander settled. His body servant washed his skin and hair, and the young King sighed and relished the soothing hot water, the intimate massage. 

Closing his eyes, Alexander asked, “Where is the boy I requested?”

“I’ll find out Your Highness,” the servant answered and left the bathroom shortly. Coming back, he informed that the chamber was empty. Alexander growled. That was truly annoying. He was tired and just needed a warm body to cuddle. 

“Never mind,” Alexander said and got out of the tub.

Towelling his master, the servant took pride in his task.

Alexander smiled looking at his dutiful body servant. He was a sweet lad but far too young to take to bed. His naked body didn’t even arouse him. 

Dismissing the boy, Alexander went to his chamber, his gauzy robe flowing behind him as he walked. 

A soft rustle was heard all of a sudden, as Alexander was about to step up into his bed. Furrowing his brow, he stepped down and tiptoed silently toward the source of the sound. Looking down upon a naked boy, kneeling to hide behind a screen, he stared, intrigued, never having seen him before. His long wavy chestnut coloured hair sparkled in the rays of the last reflections of the setting sun that shone through the window behind him.

Slowly, Alexander knelt next to him and the harem boy started to tremble. Putting his palm against the small of his back, he startled the boy, and Alexander sighed, “Did you not pleasure King Darius? You act as if you are new to this.” He grabbed his chin and gently commanded him to look up.

Gradually, his face was revealed and Alexander gasped, never before had his eyes gazed upon beauty as this. 

He went to stand erect and taking the other’s hands, he drew him to him. They stared into each other’s eyes, unable to look away.

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” Alexander said, now realising he was not addressing a boy by far.

He took his head in his hands and bent to kiss his lips. The jolt from his companion told him many things, and he withdrew to have a closer look at the uneasiness he witnessed.

“Darius never took you, did he?”

The silent beauty shook his head. He was clearly fighting an inner turmoil, but it was obvious he would not refuse Alexander’s right to bed him nevertheless.

Offering his assistance, the smooth dark-tanned hand finally rested in his, and Alexander slowly lead them toward the bed. Their unhurried pace slowed even further, yet finally, they reached their destination.

“Please lie down,” Alexander asked.

The slim man did as he was told, and once he lay there staring into the ceiling awaiting his destiny, he never saw the shock that spread across the face of his King, upon discovering the clear pattern in the burned, round mark on his left hipbone.

“By all the gods,” Alexander choked still staring non-comprehendingly at the mark. “Who are you?”

Looking back at the young ruler, only then did the harem boy realise the state of his owner.

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Grabbing his wrist, Alexander pointed at his hip with the other hand. “What is your name?”

“H-H-Hephaestion, my King,” he answered, terrified for the repercussions of whatever the king saw fit.

“Hephaestion?” Alexander repeated. He felt like slapping the man for even saying that name aloud. Feelings buried years ago came rushing through his body and he lifted his hand to connect it to the infidel lying under him. However, he stopped the motion when the blue eyes didn’t flinch. 

“You’re him. You are the thief I saved the other day.” 

The eyes before him acknowledged his statement by looking to the side. Alexander grabbed the beautiful face. “Then you’re nothing but a filthy thief! How could you steal my lost beloved’s mark AND his name.” Tears escaped his eyes when the incomprehensible truth began to settle. “And his eyes...” Finally, Alexander fulfilled the motion and the hard slap of hand meeting skin resonated the room.

“Who gave you that and don’t lie to me whore?” Alexander shouted.

“A boy did, High King!” the croaked answer came from throbbing lips. “He branded me as a child as I branded him. I’m sorry if I cannot recall better. I believe it was a test...”

It was the only correct answer, but it was an impossible one. Dizziness swept over Alexander and he let go of the thin wrist. Rubbing his eyes, he looked into orbs so blue, mocking back at him. The same colour eyes Hephaestion had when they were but children. 

“Tell me again. What is your name? If you lie to me, I will personally...”

“It’s the truth, High King... my name is Hephaestion. I... was taken by merchants and eventually ended in Babylon... where I... managed to escape... ” Hephaestion closed his mouth. What made him think the King would care about why a mere thief came to live here in Babylon? Too many horrid things had happened to him since he was sold from one unscrupulous abusive hand to the next, until he managed to escape at the age of fourteen. Since then, he had survived by stealing, miraculously escaping a destiny as whoring for greedy pimps. 

However, lately, he had suffered an occasional rape, but being as old as he was, no one was interested to claim him for prostitution.

Alexander stroked his hair. In his heart, he knew this was his lost, beloved friend. The mark he bore on his hip was the very same Alexander himself had applied the day before they were ripped from each other. Sethardies had escaped and returned unharmed, but Hephaestion was never found... until now. Never had he thought it would happen under awkward conditions such as these.

“Let’s for arguments’ sake say that I believe you,” Alexander said, but only succeeded in Hephaestion trying to pull his hand away, but the King’s grasp was persistent. 

Not daring to protest, nevertheless, Hephaestion’s survival instincts suffered to the point, where he could hardly stand more adrenaline coursing his body.

He panted and gasped like a pained animal, and when to his horror he realised that Alexander found that arousing, he turned rigid. He knew he mustn’t fight him or it would mean his certain death, but his body screamed to be released. _What’s another rape, Hephaestion?_ he asked himself, _It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Let him seek his pleasure. It will be over that much sooner._

He tried to control his trembling body, and gradually, he relaxed as Alexander used his mouth on his mark. Preparing himself mentally for what would come, Hephaestion mumbled, “I have no experience in bringing men pleasure, my King, I regret to inform you that you will be highly disappointed.”

Alexander looked up at those words. He cocked his head and his eyes became calculating small slits. “No? I recall the mob calling you a whore as well.”

Satisfied to see shameful tears film the sapphire coloured eyes, Alexander assumed he had been right.

“Think what you will, as I have nothing but the truth to offer you. I have nothing,” Hephaestion whispered. The trembles seemed to rise in power and he could not control his body any longer. Closing his eyes, Hephaestion didn’t see the surprised look in the King’s face.

“You should ask for someone else, High King. I truly am no fit for your pleasure.”

Alexander saw more and more of the Hephaestion of his youth immerge to the surface, and slowly he decided to ignore the man’s self-loathing and simply respect who he had lying under him, a frightened person. 

Stopping his sexual attempts, Alexander instead lay down next to the man. He put an arm over his chest and kept it there. It was a signal that he wouldn’t do anything to him but also that he shouldn’t even think about trying to leave the bed without his King’s permission.

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Waking up the next morning, Hephaestion lay for a while. He understood that Alexander wouldn’t touch him and he debated to himself what to do. The King, obviously comfortable in his own bed, was still asleep. His arm was heavy across Hephaestion’s stomach and his bladder had become an issue.

The King hadn’t said so in many words, but Hephaestion knew he was not allowed to leave the bed, but he would soil the sheets if he didn’t relieve himself anytime soon.

Slowly sliding toward the edge of the bed, the brunette watched how the alien hand slid further away to finally dump onto the cover. Breathing nervously, he watched the King’s face for signs he might be waking up. Nothing happened, and he went in search of the absurd but convenient small indention in the wall, indicating the whereabouts of the chest looking box, where people relieved themselves into a bucket through a whole on the top of the box. 

Finally locating Alexander’s toilet, he made use of it. Tiptoeing his way back to the bed, he froze when he realised the King watched his return.

“I... was just...”

Alexander shook his head, “I heard your business. Return at once.”

Hephaestion counted a few seconds inwardly, frustrated at having to obey Alexander. 

“NOW!” the King raised his voice.

Hephaestion hurried back in bed and as soon he lay there on his back, Alexander turned him onto his stomach.

Spreading his legs, the unceremonial preparation began. Finger upon finger entered his opening, but at least the King used oil. Hephaestion didn’t know if it was to heighten the King’s pleasure or to ease his discomfort. He doubted the last and closing his eyes, he just wished it would be over. The few times he had been raped, the violator usually was done rather quickly, as the forced taking seemed to make that kind of men come in a hurry. Afterwards, his ass just felt funny, stinging and a slightly nauseous feeling in his stomach when the adrenaline shock resided.

“If you can’t pleasure me, I won’t pleasure you,” Alexander growled.

“It’s not that I don’t wan...”

“Silence. If I want to have a use of your mouth, I will inform you,” the young king said in a threatening voice.

The unjust statement would have made Hephaestion attack anyone else, but as his opponent was not just anybody, he stood no chance to defend himself. Alexander owned his life, and said life depended on enduring this.

Finally, the groping ceased and shortly after, he grunted as a well-endowed cock stretched his ring muscle, working its way inside his passage.

“Lie still,” Alexander said, feeling how wonderfully tight the man was. Hephaestion. “Curve your body,” he commanded, as he pulled at his hips. Shortly after, he enclosed his body around Hephaestion’s. He still didn’t move other than forward, one small step at the time. Alexander could hardly believe how right this felt. How well they fit; it was as if Hephaestion was custom made for him. 

“You belong in my arms, can’t you feel it?” Hephaestion suddenly heard him say. 

This was a terrible situation. He was in the middle of being raped and was expected to agree to the rightness of the taking.

“I... feel you, my King,” he just said. He understood the difference in the taking from the other times. This would last longer; he was not going to get away easily; obviously, the King was in no hurry. 

“Oh, Hephaestion.” Alexander finally acknowledged that this man was no one else but him. No forgery, just a wondrous beautiful grown up version of his childhood friend. 

Slowly, he rocked inside him, still nearing the hilt with each delicate slow thrust. He knew he would tease Hephaestion’s pleasure spot, and wondered what his reaction would be. Catching his lower lip with his teeth, he changed the angle and slowed even more.

The first soft gasp that escaped his reluctant lover was sweet music. He found the bundle of nerves rather quickly. Refraining from commenting, Alexander moved his hips a notch faster, and hearing more sounds of surprised pleasure made him smile. 

Letting go of his possessive grasp, he touched Hephaestion’s wavy hair and moved it to the side. Baring his neck, Alexander began to lick the skin and he reached deeper with each thrust.

Hephaestion’s mouth stood agape. He had wanted to stay detached from the ordeal, but Alexander touched something inside of him he was unable to fight, an erogenous zone so intimate he couldn’t keep quiet. A sensation surrounded him, dominated him to stay still and receive pleasure the King only moments ago said he would deny him. 

Hephaestion was confused and uneasy. If the King realised he liked the coupling, would he stop? The dilemma was that Hephaestion could not keep it down. In fact, Alexander was moving faster, making the rush more constant. Subtly, he counter thrust. Despite his position curled all up, he was still pressed against the cover, his stomach rubbing against the silk, his cock sliding hard and ready to erupt any time soon.

Alexander straightened up and began pumping inside his lover with rapture, as his climax built up, he hardly paid attention to Hephaestion any longer. Hephaestion’s sheath clamped unbearably tight around his cock as he came exquisitely. 

Several minutes later, Alexander finally withdrew. Underneath him, he saw the thief breathing harshly, and he realised he was pressing him painfully against the sheets.

“Go,” he said briskly, turning away from tempestuous blue eyes. When the door closed after him, Alexander was tempted to call him back. “Tonight... I’ll ask for him tonight again,” he promised himself.

Hephaestion was back in the small reception room, where he put his clothes the evening before. Dressing, he went to the adorning hall, expecting to see a guard who would escort him back to the harem, only he waited in vain more than half an hour. 

Licking his lips nervously, Hephaestion crept along the curtain-adorned walls, hiding when people passed him by. Eventually, he stood in front of a double door. Pushing it, the heavy slabs gave and he went through. A giant corridor lead through an open courtyard and he passed it undisturbed, despite being greeted by a small selection of the staff of the palace. Finally, he realised he was on his way into the yard itself. 

Eyeing the stables ahead, he went to go there. His clothes were not too revealing. He wore a simple blue chiton; as he was expected to be naked in the King’s chambers, he had not been dressed up like a female or eunuch.

Addressing a stable boy, he said, “I need to run an errand. Show me how to get out discretely.”

The boy grinned as Hephaestion’s beautiful eyes sparkled, making the boy feel they shared a secret. Taking his hand, he showed the way, and waving goodbye, Hephaestion ran as fast as he could. Half an hour later, he had disappeared into the crowd of the busy Babylon markets.

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“We’ve looked everywhere, Alexander.” Cleitus and several others of the top officers who too had personally taken part in the search, regrettably came back after several days of searching for Hephaestion.

Alexander slowly went to the window in his bedroom; the view of the vibrant Babylon suddenly seemed dull and lifeless.

“Why didn’t I make him more comfortable? Why did I treat him like that? I know it was him, I just...” Confused Alexander turned to look at the concerned faces.

“You do believe me right? It was Hephaestion.”

Cleitus shared a glance with Ptolemy. “We believe that you thought you saw Hephaestion.”

“But he wore my brand as I wear his.”

“Alexander this is not the first time... remember? Hephaestion is not an unusual name. You’ve had several men undergo this theatrical séance...”

“It was him!” Alexander snarled.

Lifting his hands in peace, Cleitus just nodded. Thereafter they left him alone.

“Pull yourself together, Alexander,” Cleitus warned him. “You cannot show weakness like this over a lost childhood infatuation.”

Alexander nodded. “...it was him though.” 

Walking to his bed, the sheets still stained by Hephaestion’s seed, Alexander lay down and stared into the air.

Hephaestion’s scent surrounded him, and even though nobody believed him, Alexander knew he was out there... branded by his ring as he was with Hephaestion’s.

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“Damned...” Hephaestion mumbled as he saw the soldiers pass by, a fraction before he would have been caught.

“They’re looking for you, lad,” old Kalliris said. “Brown reddish hair, blue eyes, and the face of a whore...” the man cackled. “That must be you!” 

Hephaestion ignored his landlord.

“A mark on your hip...”

Looking back distracted, Hephaestion asked, “They mentioned the mark?” 

“They sure did... the right one...”

“Tough... mine is on the left.”

“That’s what I said!”

Hephaestion looked away, but his eyes were wide and worried. The king’s officers were very thorough and had made a house search through all of town; it was almost impossible to avoid them. They were everywhere and they knew what he looked like.

If they caught him, he would be escorted back to the palace and then what? Imprisonment for insulting the king, get killed or become a slave to be raped for spoils whenever the soldiers felt like it until his entrance was abused beyond repair and he died of infections. Hephaestion winced at either solution. He sighed and when the coast was clear, he dared going out. He wore a scarf around his head and a long skirt, hoping to look different enough to make some money.

Knowing he had to do something if he wasn’t to be kicked out the instant he returned home to the old geezer, he went to a part of the market circuit which he seldom frequented because it was more dangerous. Searching for him at the popular places would be too risky as he would very likely be recognised.

Snooping around, pretending to be buying, he managed to charm of bit of bread from a baker who thought he was a woman just checking the quality for purchase.

“I will return if nothing compares to this. It was delicious,” he lied.

Nervously, he roamed the shops and finally, he snatched a careless purse. As he fled the market, he bumped into a large brick builder, who immediately took him for a whore and wanted to buy his services. 

“Let me go,” he hissed, trying to get free without attracting attention. He saw that Fortuna had left him as he noticed soldiers approaching, keeping an eye on them. _Gods in heaven, this isn't happening!_ His thoughts were racing a mile a minute. The trick became more aggressive when he realised the ‘woman’ was denying his advances and put an arm around ‘her’ waist. 

Shooting out of the man’s embrace, Hephaestion startled him by how fast he reacted and yet the worker managed to grab at his veil and Hephaestion’s hair was exposed. He ended in the arms of a soldier.

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Alexander ordered them out to search again and this time, a thorough house search. Restlessly, he tried to relax in his quarters until he realised he had to go with them. He couldn't function before he found him. Hephaestion.

Disguised, he and a handful of officers followed behind the actual search party.

“Look at that!” Cleitus suddenly laughed. “That broad is doing a good job fending off that guy!”

Alexander turned and right at that moment, he saw the shawl being pulled off and Hephaestion’s easily recognisable auburn brown hair spilled down his back.

“It’s him. Seize him,” Alexander said quietly. He turned away, knowing they would be particularly rough on him, maybe due to anger because they had spent so much time finding him. However, this time, he would make sure Hephaestion was guarded carefully and not just thrown into the harem, drowning along with many other anonymous yet beautiful faces.

“The old man betrayed you, sweetheart. It’s far easier finding you wrapped like a whore.”

“What’s under your skirt, baby?” the other soldier grinned, grabbing the thief under his garment, groping his cock and balls.

Hephaestion screamed in rage and anguish. “Don’t bring me back. Please, I beg you. I don’t want to go back. Please!”

“Silence!” 

Hephaestion looked at the black haired officer he recognised as Cleitus. 

“King Alexander wants you to, so you’re going. End of discussion.” He went to stand next to the beautiful man. He bent and inhaled his scent. “You smell of sex, Hephaestion. Get laid this morning?”

Hephaestion swallowed. He didn’t get laid this morning, but he had allowed the old man to masturbate on him because he couldn’t pay the rent yet. He hoped he would have gotten the money before this afternoon... the conflict was too much. If he was taken to the palace, he wouldn’t have to worry about ever getting the money. He’d never slip away again. Bucking in distress, he tried to get free one last time.

Cleitus sighed and smacked the beauty across the cheek.

Hephaestion saw stars behind his eyes and relaxed long enough for the soldiers to tie him down.

“Don’t bruise him too much,” Alexander mumbled.

Nevertheless, it couldn’t be helped much, and with a split lip, he was presented to Alexander in his quarters.

Hephaestion felt helpless again. Before him stood King Alexander, who for some reason had decided that Hephaestion was his property. He remembered only too well the weird things the king said during their last encounter. _When he raped you,_ his inner voice corrected him. He didn’t understand what made him so special. As was with the last time, all his instincts screamed to get out of the palace and away from continued rape, he couldn’t avoid.

“Why did you have to bruise his lip?” Alexander asked coldly as he scrutinised Hephaestion's face.

“He was... difficult,” Cleitus said, knowing it was a superfluous question; Alexander saw it happen.

“I don't want to be here,” Hephaestion, whispered, his eyes burned with humiliating tears and he implored with his body language what he was not allowed to utter.

Alexander touched his face, feeling hotness gathering in his palm, when a tear escaped the kohl-rimmed eyelid. “You paint your eyes?” Alexander asked. The man’s body felt like a bowstring of nerves, and for some inexplicable reason, he felt like hitting him himself. However, he controlled the urge. 

“Undress,” he demanded instead. This time, he wanted witnesses. He didn't need the discrete implied smirks that he was going insane. This was Hephaestion. Now they would realise he had been right.

Shortly after, Hephaestion stood naked before all of them. Normally, it didn’t faze him, but the way the gathered officers and the king himself stared at him, he sensed panic rising. His eyes followed the king's hand as it reached out to touch the smooth pink shaped scar on his hip.

“You see?” the king said. “Have a close look. I branded this man myself.”

Frowning, Hephaestion looked at the king. What was he talking about? “No... It was done by a boy.”

“Quiet!” Cleitus said, and flicked the back of his head. “No one asked you, whore.”

Hephaestion looked down, his head throbbed, but the pain was minor, the indignation worse.

Alexander knelt, ignoring the cock in eyesight and instead touched the burned pink flesh. “Have a look, Cleitus. Recognise my mark.”

“You are not running away from me again, you hear?" Alexander said after he was sure Cleitus had noted the mark and admitted it looked like his signet ring. “Tie him to my bed.”

“No... I mean please... high king.”

Alexander just stepped closer. “I have to confess that I don’t know how to act around you yet, Hephaestion. So this will be a temporarily solution. I need you pacified comfortably to make sure you don’t attempt another escape.”

“Please... let me go. I have not done anything,” Hephaestion finally dared to speak up. He was otherwise out of ideas and this seemed like his last opportunity.

Alexander smiled, as did his officers. “You did plenty. But I know it was due to theft and a destiny I’m aware of is to blame on your past.”

Hephaestion closed his eyes. It was as if his entire spirit was killed in an instant. He saw dots before his eyes and suddenly felt arms embracing him to prevent the fall. However, quickly, he tried to free himself, but it was perceived as an attempt to escape. None too gently he was brought to the king's bed and tied down as requested earlier.

“Let me go,” he repeated, as he now understood there was not to be repercussions that he feared at first; no chopped off hands, no tongue cutting for speaking out of term or jail imprisonment indefinitely. Waiting for a reaction, he slowly understood the king had lost interest. He would stand no chance of pleading. It was settled and the king alone decided what was going to happen to his destiny now. That was worst... the waiting.

Nervously, Alexander glanced toward the bed. The establishment of Hephaestion’s identity was too emotional, but he dared not be alone with him just yet. He didn’t know what he’d do to him. So he stalled for the moment, trying to collect himself.

“Look,” Ptolemy suddenly said, in his hand a purse, which had been hidden in the folds of Hephaestion’s garment.

“You stole this?” Cleitus said, nearing the thief.

Hephaestion decided it mattered not what he said. “No, it was already in the dress.”

Cleitus poked his thigh, where after the fingers stopped and slowly slid inwards, creeping up.

Swallowing, Hephaestion sensed the direction toward his cock.

“So... skirts come with a heavy purse these days?” A finger grazed his scrotum, a nail drove across a testicle, and Hephaestion gasped. 

“Just answer the man, Hephaestion,” Alexander said.

“I stole the money,” Hephaestion admitted instantly as Cleitus’ hand began to squeeze his balls. “Just before you caught me,” he added, as the pressure hadn’t ceased yet. “I didn’t want to lose my lodging.”

“And this is the life you were dying to get back to? Homelessness? Theft to survive.”

“At least I would have had my freedom,” Hephaestion mumbled.

Cleitus slapped his cheek roughly and then turned to leave the room. Ptolemy followed his example and soon, Alexander was alone.

He went to sit on the bed. Looking at the body eagle spread on the sheets, he thought rationally: This is Hephaestion, who clearly doesn’t want to stay.

“Why do you insist on keeping me here? What could I possibly offer you, I’ve already proved I’m a lousy lay,” Hephaestion asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Alexander said. “Are you not longing for something better than stealing? Fighting to pay rent, being bullied like you were today?”

“I’m used to it. It’s what’s my life is like. I can’t lie here on your bed for the rest of my life. Is that what you want? I don’t know why you keep saying you know me. I have never seen you before in my life.”

“It’s fate, Hephaestion. I witnessed how you almost lost your hands. I saved those hands despite the men willing to cut them off believed you deserved that - as is the custom here.”

“And I’m grateful for your intervention,” Hephaestion quickly said. His eyes stayed on the king’s lips, hoping to catch a spark of hope that this conversation would lead to his freedom.

“Then you were brought here and, by some twist of fate, not taken to the barracks as I had initially requested but to the harem. Instead, you were presented to me here in my chambers. This is when I saw it. The mark.”

 _The mark..._ “What about the mark?”

“I marked you, Hephaestion.”

“And I tell you, it can’t have been you. This was done in my childhood and...”

“I was that boy.”

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Hephaestion was speechless. “I don't understand...”

“Hephaestion... what do you remember from your childhood?” Alexander undressed and climbed on top of the tied-down man, straddling his hips as he put his palms against Hephaestion’s stomach. Knowing how Hephaestion had been treated by his officers since they caught him this morning, it was understandable how nervously the muscles under his touch twitched, so he didn't move his hands.

Maybe that was worse for Hephaestion than if he could anticipate his next touch, but Alexander admitted that he enjoyed the power he had over Hephaestion, who clearly behaved like a subject. Not that there was any choice being tied down as he was.

“I... can't recall much I'm afraid.”

“Your parents?” Alexander urged.

“... no.. I can't recall...”

“Pella? You remember growing up? And school in Mieza?”

“... no - I don't think...”

“Sethardies? Nearchos, Cassandros?”

“Sethardies?” A flash of memories of a blond boy with blue eyes entered his mind. Another flash of a different blue-eyed boy with soft blond curls entered his mind there after. Kisses and intimate touches. 

“Something’s happened. Something did happen; you were abducted. You and Sethardies. Do you remember?”

Hephaestion swallowed as suppressed memories suddenly swamped his mind with confusing, vivid pictures of a terrible incident. He had always managed to force these things away, these obscenely appalling memories of what happened to him in his early youth.

“Please... remember me. Remember the boy.”

“Sethardies?” Hephaestion gasped confused. “Are you?”

“No no - and he’s all right. He came back to Mieza. He escaped.”

Hephaestion’s bright eyes looked at him. “He was lucky. They were too busy with me to keep an eye on him. Did he tell you that?”

“Busy with what?”

Hephaestion looked away. “Never mind. Forget it, it's a long time ago.”

“The boy? Do you remember me?”

Hephaestion returned his look and exclaimed distressed, “No! I don't remember you. I just remember a boy. Blond - like yours. Blue eyes...”

“That's good. Go on!”

“Why? Will it make me feel better to know I could have grown up being like you?”

“We were lovers. I loved you... I still love you. I never lost...”

“Oh!” Hephaestion cried shocked. He clenched his teeth in agony. “I don't believe you – Alexander, is it?”

“Tell me your memories support my words. Oh by god... Hephaestion! You were everything to me and then you were ripped from my world, my arms. And then I find you at last - here, and you don't even remember me!”

“I'm sorry,” Hephaestion said carefully, as the King clearly seemed upset and still held his palms pressed against his stomach.

Catching the man's eyes, Hephaestion tried to relax. It would hurt less.

“If I untie you, how will you react?”

“Please untie me... please...”

Alexander sighed and put a hand on his mouth to silence him. Watching the smooth, tanned chest rise and fall with each laboured breath, he asked, “Can we make an arrangement? I need you around me; now that I have found you, you are the solution to the restlessness I have felt since I lost you. I cannot let you slip away, yet, you will wither if I keep you imprisoned...” Alexander's musings stopped as he saw hope rise in Hephaestion's glittering sapphire eyes.

“I will do anything to get free.”

“I know, I know...” Alexander mumbled affectionately, encircling the rim of Hephaestion's navel.

“Untie me... Alexander.” Hephaestion dared using the King's first name and he seemed to respond by pushing his hands upwards on his chest to caress his throat and back to slowly rub his nipples. “I implore you. I don't want to BE HERE!” Hephaestion finally lost his temper, screaming at the man. “Untie me... and we’ll... talk.”

Alexander nodded and almost mechanically untied his hands. 

Hephaestion slowly gathered his arms and rubbed his wrists wincing. “The bastard Cleitus. I'm sure he kept the ropes too tight on purpose.”

“He wanted to make sure you were subdued.”

Putting his hand to the King's chest, Hephaestion pushed him back, following the motion sitting up. The tendons on the back of his legs hurt and he hissed, “Get off of my legs.”

Alexander stepped down from the bed and undid the ropes to his feet as well, patiently waiting until they stood in front of each other.

Hephaestion meant to put on his garments when Alexander shook his head. “Don't be ridiculous, Hephaestion. Here, have some decent man's clothes.” 

Pointing toward his closet, Hephaestion went to get some. Quickly, he donned the chiton and undergarments. “Thank you.”

Alexander picked up his own garments from the floor and soon they were both dressed. “You should always be dressed in fresh clothes, Hephaestion!”

Stepping closer, he grabbed a handful of thick wavy hair. “I need you...”

Hephaestion looked at him. He was very comely. He supposed he could pass for being the blond boy he remembered marking him. Slowly, he lifted the King's chiton and flexing his attention between the man's haunting eyes and his own ministrations with his hands, he eventually revealed the matching mark on Alexander’s left hip. “I did this to you,” he stated.

Alexander just nodded. “You did. I embraced it, the pain, because I loved you.”

Hephaestion nodded back as tears filled his eyes. Irritated, he wiped them away. “You raped me Alexander, and then you say you love me.”

Shamefully, Alexander confirmed with a constricting throat.

“Do you have any idea what it feels like to be raped? How many times I have been raped? How young I was the first time?” A desperate yell escaped his lips and he stalked the window and looked out. “I hate you!” he mumbled.

“Hephaestion, please! I will do anything!”

Smiling ironically at the reversed situation that for the first time, Hephaestion felt he was in control of the situation, “Think rationally for a moment. Why do you want to keep me? I clearly don't want to be here.”

“Because if I let you go...”

“Then what? Then I will be free to do as I please.”

Alexander just swallowed.

“I don't want to be prevented from that. And I can't get it into my head why you don't understand this! It’s so childishly logical... right...” Hephaestion stared at the King and then laughed a dry humourless laughter of exasperation a few seconds.

Sliding his hands to the back of Hephaestion’s head, Alexander and his captive stared at each other. Hephaestion was aware of the situation. The King was the dominant, it was natural for him to take his partner, and Hephaestion would be expected to submit freely, eventually. Slowly, he leaned closer and they kissed for a short while. It was a kind of truce and maybe he would be able to give in some more.

Letting go of his hair, Alexander cleared his voice. “So you hate me?”

Rolling his eyes, Hephaestion said, “I... I don't know, Alexander! You have done nothing but showing me aggressive manners and variations of dominating me. What if someone snatched you out of your environment to put you away as some pretty thing only to be taken out when your capturer felt like a fuck?"

“Fine! I don't blame you for hating me.” They both put their hands on their hips.

“Well, now what?” Hephaestion said.

“If I let you go?”

“Yes?” Hephaestion's lips parted and his stare seemed sharper.

“Would you come back to me by your own free will?”

Turning away to hide his feelings, Hephaestion said, “I never wanted to be here in the first...”

“I KNOW, DAMN IT!!!” Alexander shouted, seeing Hephaestion flinch. He went to stand close to him, putting his hands on his shoulders and kissed the side of his throat. “I love you, Hephaestion.”

Hephaestion closed his eyes and sighed. Gradually, he tilted his neck to the side and when Alexander kissed his skin with lips warm and gentle, he allowed the man what little affection he could draw from it. Then he turned.

Alexander looked at him with eyes burning with the need to touch him.

“If you let me go, I will return. I will not like it, and if you use your men to go after me, I will disappear forever.”

“But you hate me...”

Angrily, Hephaestion freed himself. “We are compromising now, aren’t we? I'm stupidly offering to show up for you to use me and then I will go back to my lecherous landlord...”

“HEPHAESTION!!” Alexander shouted.

“WHAT??” Hephaestion yelled back.

“This isn't working...” Alexander huffed.

Bending his arms across the chest, Hephaestion looked elsewhere but at Alexander.

The King was shaking with frustration. Hephaestion was absolutely not unreasonable. Alexander did use the harem since it was there - but he also found that the sweet exotic women and eunuchs living there would not want it differently; accustomed as they were to luxury and three meals a day.

It was different with Hephaestion.

“I hoped we could be... friends. Get to know each other all over. What do you say?”

“No rape?” Hephaestion hissed with half lidded eyes.

Alexander winced. “It was a mistake. I have never raped anyone before and I still don't know what came over me. Sincerely, I apologise Hephaestion.”

Hephaestion looked like he considered that. “I believe you, because I do sense some good in you. You're blaming me for all this, you know? I...” he hesitated, but Alexander seemed alert. “I thought you raped me to... end something.”

Feeling the pain, Alexander reached out a hand. “Please Hephaestion,” he whispered.

“You know what? This is entirely about you. What you need, how you feel. You are allowed to demand this consideration because you are the King. You're used to this.”

Alexander nodded. “True. I'm usually aware of my stand in life. I hope I’m not a selfish man as such, but as King there are things that is my duty to require.”

“People?” 

“Back to that?”

“I just have to make sure that you understand what it feels like to be considered property. I had a life. Crappy yes, but it was my life. You changed that just because you felt like it. If I give in to let you change it...”

They kept their eyes locked.

“Let’s just start by making friends. Nothing else. Once a week, and then we'll see.” Alexander suggested.

“Do you honestly think we can be friends?” Hephaestion asked.

Alexander avoided his direct stare. 

“And that you can keep your hands off me?”

“Please Hephaestion,” he begged. 

Without a word, Hephaestion turned and went for the door.

“Come back here!”

Hephaestion just waved him off without looking and Alexander set after him.

Shortly after, Hephaestion was knocked to the floor and pinned by Alexander.

“You’re fucking asking for it,” Alexander hissed as he began ripping at his chiton.

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Quickly, recovering from the assault, Hephaestion let Alexander focus on his clothes without struggling. As soon as that happened, the King’s left hand began pulling at his drawers; Hephaestion got one hand free and hit the King square on the chin. With Alexander yelling in surprised pain, Hephaestion made quick of his advantage and ignored the undergarments he’d lost. Holding on to his torn chiton, he fled the room.

“That was the saddest display I have ever witnessed, Alexander,” Cleitus’ voice was heard from behind the tapestry.

“Come forward,” Alexander said, rubbing his chin.

“Don’t worry about the little minx. He won’t go very far. I have guards grabbing him in the hall outside.”

And true enough, Hephaestion’s angry, frustrated shouts were heard when he was caught.

Alexander groaned at the sounds as he scoped to sit against the nearest wall, bending his knees up and embraced them, hiding his head. “I’m so pathetic, Cleitus. Why won’t he just...?”

Cleitus laughed, “I wouldn’t fear his lack of corporation. You two already sound like a married couple. A few more of your convincing ‘talks’ and he won’t be able to live without ya.” Cleitus squatted and patted Alexander roughly on the head. “He’ll come around. Especially after a few nights in the cellars.”

“What?” Alexander asked, looking up at him.

“In case Hephaestion got away, I ordered the guards to put him with the lowlife he’s so fond of...”

“Cleitus! Bring him back at once.” Alexander didn’t like the thought of Hephaestion in the cellars with murderers and real scum.

“No. You need for him to realise that the life he had outside these walls wasn’t so great after all.”

“It’s not your place to teach him a lesson.”

“Oh? But basically raping him _again_ , is yours?” Cleitus hissed back, knowing he was stepping out of line.

Alexander didn’t seem to care; he just met his eyes head on a few seconds. “Fetch him,” he said.

“No.” Cleitus turned and left, cackling at Alexander’s despair.

Groaning loudly, Alexander buried his fingers in his hair. “...damn.” At least Hephaestion hadn’t been able to leave the palace.

As soon as Hephaestion left Alexander, guards caught him. His chiton fell to the ground, leaving him naked but a pair of sandals. Forcefully, he was taken to the cellars and thrown behind bars. Slowly, he turned to face the other people with whom he was to share the same space. Snickers and lewd remarks were soon heard in the corners and shortly after, he was approached with obvious offers.

Calling out to the guards brought no result, and soon he was struggling to hold three men at a distance.

When Cleitus came down to check on the prisoner, he snarled at the guards who, as he expected, were more interested in watching the show than interfere. They seemed to have forgotten a direct order. “Stupid fools!”

He watched as Hephaestion fought to prevent being raped. Naked and vulnerable as the result of Alexander's fit, and with his looks, Hephaestion had been an easy target as soon as the guards turned their backs on him and Cleitus’ orders.

“Get him out,” he barked. No sooner, than Hephaestion was back into his care, Cleitus grabbed an arm and forced it behind his back. Gritting his teeth, Hephaestion kept his mouth shut despite the pain in his joints. Cleitus grabbed a fistful of his long hair; gradually, he bent Hephaestion's head backwards.

Standing there, caught in the iron grasp of the tough officer, Hephaestion suddenly prompted a memory of a black-eyed fellow approximate his own age now, who often watched him when he was younger - before the kidnapping.

“You used to watch me, didn't you?”

Caught off guard, Cleitus stood a few seconds, “Lusting after a tiny, scrawny kid like you were? I doubt it.” 

The hold on Hephaestion’s arm tightened a notch so painfully he couldn’t keep quiet. “Please!”

“That's better.”

“Take me back to the King. Does he even...?”

“Yeah yeah. The King knows. I told him personally,” Cleitus grinned, increasing the bend of Hephaestion's head, until he could look directly into his gorgeous face. 

The pressure on his arm was unbearable. “You're hurting me. Please!” he gasped in agony.

Cleitus didn't react. He didn't care if Hephaestion’s shoulder popped out of its socket. “I advise you to do your best to keep the King happy. You got that? You don't want me as your enemy. I can make you disappear; I can find you just as easily. There is no way you can avoid me unless you choose to flee the country. And still, I will find you. Got that?” he asked in a soft yet dangerous voice.

Hephaestion didn't dare move a muscle. His eyes were fixed on the black pools boring into his own.

“Beautiful, that’s what you are, whore,” Cleitus said almost affectionately. “Let's go back, shall we? And if he wants to fuck you in your arse for the rest of your natural life ‘if he feels like it’,” Cleitus quoted Hephaestion himself, “then that is what he’s going to do. Got it?” he asked.

Hephaestion just swallowed.

“I don't give a fuck about you. To me, you’re just a convenient cunt for the King to deposit his sperm.”

The humiliation could hardly get any worse as tears silently ran down Hephaestion’s temples. “You do give a fuck,” Hephaestion mumbled, “You just wished you had access to my cunt,” he mocked, prepared to hear his bones break.

Dropping his charge square on the floor, Cleitus’ breath was laboured as he forced not to give in to the urge to further hurt the young man. Roughly, he pulled the prisoner back onto his feet and for the second time that day, Hephaestion was dragged naked through the palace.

Soon it became obvious they were not heading for the King's chambers. Knowing Cleitus wouldn't get away with hurting him seriously, Hephaestion began to struggle and used efficient, dirty tricks when he kneed the man in his privates.

Cleitus tried to grab his hair again, but Hephaestion surprised him with a well-placed knock out, by smashing his elbow in his cheek, sending the proud warrior down out cold. A sickening feeling filled the blue-eyed man as he looked at Cleitus. _I'm so dead,_ he thought with irony, _Had I been allowed to mind my own business..._

He looked around and nobody really reacted; no one came running, alarmed by the commotion. Rage burned slowly in his chest, replacing fear. Even though he longed to kick at Cleitus, it wouldn’t make much of an impact to the unconscious man. Frantically looking around, Hephaestion established he had nowhere to go hiding. The hall was too large and there was not much furniture to hide behind. 

“The Harem...” he murmured. At least he knew how to reach that. Nobody would look for him there the first few hours. Hopefully, nobody would squeal on him and give away his hiding place, but he felt totally out of luck by now. 

Shortly after, he approached a corridor leading to the many bedrooms of the girls and eunuchs of the Harem. Searching for the one that had been appointed to him when he first was brought there, he found that the room was still intact with a closet of clothes in his size. Quickly, he found something to wear. It was unbelievably comforting not being naked any longer.

Watching how his hands trembled, his body collapsed on the bed. Some time passed before he returned to the present; his mind a mess of fear and a gnawing feeling in his guts that wouldn't allow him the rest he craved. Finally, he stood up and slowly swung his legs over the edge of the mattress. He stared at his sandals. His feet still dusty from his market visit.

Bending forward, his forehead rested against his gathered knees. A faint noise was heard outside and although he had expected it all along, he jumped violently when the noise stopped outside his door. Slowly Hephaestion got up and glancing to the side, he grabbed a vase on his left. Preparing himself to die within the next few moments, he raised his hands.

The blow fell instantly. Blood spewed from crushed teeth and jawbone as a guard unexpectedly fell to the floor. Hephaestion used his fallen body to attack the next in line, but those were Perdiccas and Antigones.

“Now we’re done with being nice to you despite the King fancying your tight arse.”

“You’re obsessed with this, are you not? You’re all obsessed with this. None of you fools get it that all I wanted was to get OUT OF HERE!!!” Hephaestion bellowed, as he tried to dart away from their efficient methods to subdue a person. 

They hadn’t counted on the lithe man being so good at bending and twirling and they lost their grip on him. Hephaestion did short work of the second guard as well and soon they had to run fast to try to catch him as he stormed down the corridor and into the Harem hall where a slight commotion occurred when he barged in on their midday occupations. Quickly, Hephaestion mingled, so when the three men showed up, he had vanished. Slowly moving further into a dark part of the room, he found a veil and a top carelessly left on a divan. He changed tops quickly. Knowing his hair colour would give him away; he gathered it under the veil and sat still, trying to control his heaving chest and short breath. Everybody knew who the men were looking for, but no one pointed toward him, despite the fact the men went about and agitatedly asked around none too gently, scaring the others in the harem. 

_Why would they protect me?_ Hephaestion thought wearily. Then it dawned on him. They knew more between the lines than these stupid officers would ever grasp. Hephaestion was considered one of them, a Babylonian; it would be safe to assume that not all of the pretty girls and eunuchs were here on their own free will as well, and surely, none of the pretty eunuchs had chosen their destiny; the ‘surgery’ being done to them when they were just young lads. A decision made by others specifically to please the King. Like Hephaestion.

Hephaestion’s eyes moistened and he felt ashamed. Looking around, he realised what protecting him could mean to these innocent people. Slowly, he had to get up and put away the veil. Stepping forward, he said in a clear voice, “I surrender. Take me to your King. I give up...” 

He was held when the soldiers punched him just for the heck of it, their frustrations clearly residing in their knuckles. They all decided his soft guts were the place to concentrate on and the continued beatings hurt, forcing him to scream in pain. He was thrown to the ground and would have been kicked as well, however, Antigones called for a stop.

“We’ve wasted time enough on him; take him to the King.” Brutally, he was pulled up, and dragging his feet along, he was eventually back in the King’s bedroom.

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In Alexander’s mind, Hephaestion hadn't grown a day. He was still the same age as when they were parted as children. He understood this as the stunning man was thrown roughly at his feet, moaning softly. A man who repeatedly said he didn’t want to be there when in reality, he said he didn’t want Alexander. That he wasn’t interested in him and wasn’t inclined toward him. Realising this came as a blow to the young King, who was so sure they’d been lovers back then, but it too became a blur. What exactly occurred between them when they were younger? Love? Well, enough for them to brand each other for eternity. Sex? Hardly, but affection and physical touches, he remembered those clearly... and the kisses. Hephaestion’s beautiful pink mouth, he always tasted... so... Alexander closed his eyes. Astonished, he realised he remembered how good his friend’s mouth and lips tasted back then.

“Go. He won’t behave stupidly,” Alexander said tiredly to Perdiccas. “How’s Cleitus?” 

“Back amongst the living,” Antigones growled, longing to wring Hephaestion’s neck... slowly.

“How is he?” Alexander asked again, eyes fixed on Hephaestion who lay still on his stomach, hairs all over his face, covering his bruises.

“He’s all right. The whore was efficient, but didn’t damage him.”

“Don’t address him as a whore,” Alexander said softly. “He’s household now... aren’t you, Hephaestion?”

Hephaestion just grunted. What was the point in answering? Stepping forward freely indicated so many aspects, and he was preparing himself to be humiliated for the rest of his life. Property.

“I’ll go now, Alexander, before I damn well kill him.” 

“Well, apparently you almost succeeded, Antigones,” Alexander said non-accusingly.

Squatting, Alexander rubbed his cheeks and turned his head, “Fetch a doctor, would you?”

“For him?” Antigones spat.

“Yes!” Alexander got up. “I’ve unfortunately wronged this man. If I had let him go after the incident with his hands, he would have gone living his own destiny as it was laid out for him. I interfered. And now...” He swallowed - “I have to make it up to him.”

“Fuck, Alexander. This is so deranged. He’s...” Antigones bit his tongue before the word escaped his tongue.

“I ask of you to remember that if he had not been kidnapped, he would have been one of us. A general, an officer. Don’t forget that, my friend... and he’s not a whore, so...” 

Alexander returned to squatting and when he heard the doors close behind Antigones, he helped Hephaestion on his feet. 

Biting his lip at seeing the result of his frustrated friends, he helped Hephaestion to his bed and undressed him. 

“Careful...” Hephaestion breathed in small gasps. He hurt everywhere and slipped into unconsciousness long before the doctor arrived.

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The sun shone in his eyes, teasing him to wake up. He was having a nice dream, and the remnants were still colouring his reality when actual reality discovered that he was waking up. Opening his eyes, he looked into a face he couldn't place right away. Then, he remembered and recoiled, trying to wake up, ready for the blow.

Forcing his sleepy brain to wake up, his eyes began to dart for an escape.

“I’m not gonna touch you,” Alexander said.

“Touch me?” Hephaestion asked nervously.

“You’ve slept all day yesterday and night. I thought you would sleep the rest of this day as well, and then I would have been worried. I’ve had plenty of time to put my hands on you if that had been my desire. What should change that now?”

“I woke up... that’s a huge difference,” Hephaestion answered.

“Well I’m not going to... I was told you surrendered,” Alexander said.

Slowly, Hephaestion nodded. “Yes otherwise I'm sure I would have been killed.”

“No, although I'm sure they would have loved to.”

“You're not the one who saw murder in their eyes. Anyway... You got what you wanted.” Hephaestion looked down, and Alexander couldn't have been more displeased. How could he possibly win this battle? He didn't desire Hephaestion like that. Not the meek person he presented. That way, he could pick any of the pretty subjects in the Harem who would be a willing bed partner. He nearly yawned at the thought. He longed for a good wrestle in bed, the kind of fight Hephaestion delivered. 

Looking at the man's gorgeous hair, the beautiful tanned limbs bent in submission before him, he took a deep breath that came out as a sob of regret.

“I'm sorry I forced you, Hephaestion.”

Carefully, Hephaestion raised his eyes to meet his, profound in their depths.

“You're free to leave.”

A sudden fear filled Hephaestion. The feeling came out of nowhere. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that nothing ties you to this place. Go home.”

Home? Slowly, Hephaestion got up, wincing from the beatings he had taken. He didn't really have a home, or any possessions. He had nothing. The old man would surely have given his lodgings to someone else by now and thrown away what little belongings he had had that were of no importance anyway.

“I have nothing, not even a home.” Hephaestion got out of bed. “Not even clothes,” he said, realising he was once more stripped naked; his battered body covered in blue and yellow bruises.

“Help yourself,” Alexander said, pointing toward his closet.

Hephaestion began laughing. “And return to my filthy life looking like a King?”

“You prefer rags?”

“Yes!” Hephaestion said exasperated. “I would be robbed and probably killed if I went back to my neighbourhood looking like you.”

“Then stay...”

“What in the gods' name would I be doing around here?”

“I could teach you so many things. You were such a bright boy at school, Hephaestion. You may have forgotten a lot, but I could reintroduce these things to you. Make you...”

“I don't need your world. I have seen what power does to people like you.”

Alexander closed his eyes. When he opened them, Hephaestion was rummaging through his closet. Finally, the man gave an agitated shout and almost broke off the lids in rage when he shut them. “Nothing fits!” He pulled away from the closet and stared accusingly at Alexander who said nothing. A few days ago, he had accepted using Alexander’s clothes. But then, he was not supposed to leave the palace.

“I’ll never fit outside again.” Hephaestion pointed at his brain. “You’ve messed up my head too well - I don’t know what to do... I can’t...breathe...in here.”

Alexander realised Hephaestion was having a fit. Quickly, he opened a window, went back, and dragged him along. “Take a deep breath.” Putting Hephaestion in front of him, he held him as he took a few deep breaths. 

Standing there, with the King’s arms around him, Hephaestion allowed himself to relax. He didn’t feel like leaving. His body ached from the events... what two days ago? He had slept in this room for that long. 

Gradually, he turned and the King’s hands folded loosely behind his back. The man’s eyes were longing, and he supposed he could have had worse than a king... 

Maybe he could learn to live in here after all. Learn to like what Alexander wanted from him. At least he could pretend he liked his caresses without fear for being hurt, like now when his fingers touched the fine hairs on the small of his back. If he just gave in, he would be treated gently. 

Closing his eyes, he would never have thought he could sink so low, but how could he beat this enemy? It was not possible, and staying alive would be the smartest move right now. 

“...all right,” he whispered. “I’ll stay... but you’ll have to teach me everything and by that I do mean everything. I could probably use being smarter.”

Alexander nodded. “I hear you.”

“I have only been with women, so when it comes to sex with men, I have only experienced that during rape, Alexander. So, bear with me. I know nothing about being intimate with a man.”

Alexander touched his forehead to Hephaestion’s, feeling dizzy for a moment. “So you like me just a little bit?”

“We’ll see. I’ll take it a day at the time right now. I’m not a particular popular person around here, Alexander. I think I'll just - stay here so far.”

“Sure - of course!” Alexander said.

Hephaestion slipped out of his arms and went to the closet to pick out an outfit he’d eyed from the start.

“You could pass for me, Hephaestion!”

Turning, Hephaestion said with a little smile, “I’m Alexander too then?”

Alexander’s heart stopped almost. "Yes... that's how I saw us always."

Hephaestion kept their eyes locked a few more moments. Swallowing, he thought it was time to give in a little. "Does it hurt?" he asked, nearing the King. Reaching him, he touched his face.

"No," Alexander smiled. "Not anymore."

"You want another hit?" Hephaestion joked and they both grinned.

"Not today. I think we've both had our share of beatings. How are you?"

"Hurting everywhere," Hephaestion replied, and Alexander loved the indignant fire in his eyes. 

"Don't hide things. You must feel you can say whatever is on your mind, Hephaestion, or you cannot progress intellectually."

"What does intellectually mean?" Hephaestion asked deadpanned.

"Uh...? I thought you would know that but..."

"I do. I'm only kidding you, but actually I seem to know quite a lot compared to people of my class."

"You're bred well. You were very bright like I said. It pleases me greatly that the knowledge is intact inside that beautiful head of yours when everything else seems to have been forgotten."

"Yes, it would seem so, whe..."

"Why did you choose those garments?" Alexander suddenly said, interrupting Hephaestion.

Looking down at himself, Hephaestion shrugged, "Would you rather I changed them into something else? Simpler?"

"No, I'd rather you wore nothing at all."

Hephaestion hesitated but then he resolutely complied. He had surrendered and had better start acting like it. Squaring his shoulders, he stood in front of Alexander. Arms hung relaxed and his chin held tilted. "What would you have me do, your majesty?"

"...wow..." Alexander viewed his body, despite the blue marks from the brutality he'd seen the last few days, the man was a vision, and Alexander became aroused at the mere sight of him. "What happened here?"

"Go on before I regret this, Alexander," Hephaestion said.

"Hephaestion, you’re sure?"

"Alexander!" Hephaestion said sharply.

Quickly, the King put his hands on the man's hip and around the back of his head through his hair. Pressing his lips against Hephaestion's, he sensed the man's body stiff as a board, lips quivering as he fought to make them pliant.

Alexander liked it, liked the hostility, and respected the inner struggle to some degree despite not really being able to empathize with what Hephaestion was going through. Putting his other hand around his head, he continued to kiss him; delighted in his taste, the moist softness, when he finally penetrated his sealed lips. 

A desperate mewl escaped Hephaestion as Alexander slipped into his mouth. The King’s tongue ran over every surface with eager strokes as wanted he to taste every single surface of flesh and teeth. 

Hephaestion felt rigid and nauseated. Why wasn’t it possible to just relax and simply surrender? He backed away. Bending, he put his hands on his knees, panting. Glancing at Alexander, he implored, “Slow down, Alexan...” However, he hadn’t even finished his sentence before the blond was all over him again.

“Damn...” Hephaestion moaned, feeling the demanding tongue back inside his mouth.

“You like it? Tell me you like it,” Alexander asked in between the hot kisses.

“I damn hate every moment of it!” Hephaestion finally managed to snarl.

“You’re a feisty kitten aren’t you, ‘Faestion? Hiss for me!” Alexander said excitedly. “Scratch me too if you want to.”

Not knowing what to do with his hands, Hephaestion clutched them at either of side of Alexander’s chest. The kiss was aggressive, challenging, dominating and somewhere, Hephaestion realised it was also arousing to be claimed, but he did not welcome the feeling; he resented how the devouring mouth made him weak. How his jaws ached from the beating and the pressure from the King’s passionate fusion. 

Letting him go, Alexander moaned, “By the gods, Hephaestion, no one sets me on fire like you do.”

“I can... tell,” Hephaestion gasped. 

Alexander moved them to the bed and obeying, Hephaestion climbed on it to lie on his back.

Letting his hand fall down, Alexander touched Hephaestion’s mark. “I marked you... so long ago.”

Once naked, Alexander crawled on top of Hephaestion, straddling him lightly before bending forward. "See your mark?"

Hephaestion had another look at it. "Did I really do this?"

"Yes. Hurt like hell."

"It did yes. I may have forgotten most things, but I never forgot the boy who branded me."

"Me..." Alexander said, pleased. He bent to lick Hephaestion's swollen lower lip. "Gorgeous..." he mumbled, and then let his tongue dive inside to stroke his playmate again. Groaning with desire, he plunged that mouth, devouring it anew. He lowered his hips to begin rubbing against Hephaestion’s cock.

“Skipping the lessons are we?” Hephaestion asked dryly.

"Damn those. You’ll have to learn as we progress," Alexander said.

Hephaestion closed his eyes. How naïve to think Alexander could control himself around him. A spittle slickened finger teased his opening. Uncomfortable, he breathed deeply through his nose.

"Please Hephaestion. I need you," Alexander cooed against his lips. "Spread your legs for me," he said, as a second finger found its way inside him. Hephaestion was warm, smooth, flexible, and he just wanted to get in there.

When the King penetrated his body, Hephaestion tensed up and the thrust forward burned as the muscle tore a little to accommodate. Yanking his mouth free he shouted, "Wait a moment!"

Alexander breathed laboured and impatiently, he watched Hephaestion’s angry eyes. "Yes?" Slowly he rocked a few inches back and forth, small thrusts that could be used for Hephaestion to adapt quicker.

"Lift your legs to my shoulders. I want to watch your face, your eyes when you come."

Hephaestion sneered, "IF I come."

"I thought you said you surrendered to me," Alexander challenged him.

"Like I'm your enemy, you seem obsessed to conquer me, Alexander."

"Do as I say," Alexander replied.

Hephaestion gave up. It was hopeless to assume this man could change. Slowly, he lifted his legs to position them on the King’s shoulders. All his efforts were in vain, as nothing had changed. 

As the King pounded his insides, he lay numb waiting for it to be over soon. Taking it all, even the detached orgasm that hardly registered more than a quick loveless peak. However, the seed on his stomach seemed to please the King.

"Don’t tell me you didn’t like it,” Alexander said getting out of bed.

"I hated every moment of it.”

Alexander turned stupefied, but he said nothing. 

"You just don’t pay attention,” Hephaestion mumbled, slowly managing to sit, feeling a trickle of seed drip from his opening. "I need to clean myself," he said tonelessly.

"Just go. I'll send for you next time... When my anger is gone."

"Damn you..." Hephaestion said and dressed before he left for the Harem.

"Not that way." Alexander went outside with him, giving the guards an order. 

Hephaestion was taken to different quarters, not the Harem. He was to have his own apartment. Surprised, Hephaestion was left alone afterwards. Waiting a few moments, he looked out of the door and frowned. The King still didn't trust him and nor should he. There were actually two huge guards outside and they stared neutrally at him.

Closing the door, Hephaestion went to inspect the place, imagining the sheer size of the palace to accommodate people in apartments. He found the bathing room and gasped seeing a body servant waiting for him. Hephaestion swallowed nervously. “Please go. I can do this...”

“Please, master. It's my job,” the boy said.

“Wha...?” Hephaestion stopped in time. “What is your name?”

“Risvan,” the boy said.

Hephaestion nodded. “Fine. I suppose you can help me.”

Relieved, the boy began to fuss over him as he got comfortable in the tub. Closing his eyes, Hephaestion gradually was rid of Alexander's scent. He didn't want to think about what had just happened. The rape. As he usually did with the other rapes he had endured, he stored this one in the back of his mind as well. It wasn't easy but he had learned it was necessary making it easier to go on. Lying alone in bed, he sighed at the sudden luxury of his surroundings. The sharp contrast to his earlier life but somehow just another piece to the puzzle that was Hephaestion.

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Next midday, Hephaestion sensed eyes upon him again, while sleeping. Still half asleep, he sat up, trying to figure out what caused the feeling, when he saw Cleitus standing in front of him. The remnants of sleep disappeared immediately. The man had a bruise on his cheek, and the look in his black eyes made Hephaestion carefully guarded. He always was anyway, but he was prepared for the man to lash out.

“What is going to happen in this room you are not revealing to his Majesty. All I want is to make sure that he is happy. Obviously, you're not doing a good job at it and I warned you about that didn't I?”

Hephaestion got on his knees, and Cleitus let his eyes roam over his bruised body. “Did he hurt you?”

“He raped me so...”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Yes! He didn't care about waiting for me to become accustomed to him.”

“Turn around.”

“Oh please! Spare me your sympathy,” Hephaestion mocked.

“I wasn't trying to be nice to you. I'm telling you,” Cleitus said, pushing Hephaestion back on the bed. “Now turn over,” he repeated, and slowly the younger man did. Cleitus undressed and got into the bed as well.

Alarmed, Hephaestion looked back over his shoulder.

“Take it easy.”

“No! Why are you undressed? Are you going to rape me as well?” he asked.

Cleitus laughed, “No - I'm going to teach you how things are done. You are a colt. I'm going to make sure you know how to please him. He usually takes his time with colts - apparently, he lusts you so much that he can't wait to grab you.”

“I don’t want sex with you, Cleitus.”

“Imagine I’m him, and then.”

“I don't want sex with him either. Any of you. I want out of here!”

“You're not going to, so stop repeating yourself.” 

He had something in his hand. Turning, Hephaestion eyed the items nervously. “What are they?”

“Salve and oil for your arse, and Kohl... for your eyes.”

“What...for me? Why?”

“Stop that. I don't have to restrain you, do I?”

“No... you don't,” Hephaestion replied quickly.

“Good. Turn!”

Reluctantly, Hephaestion turned onto his stomach and spread his legs to a man he didn't trust and let him examine his opening. However, the procedure was done in no time and with a surprisingly lack of discomfort.

“Sit up,” Cleitus then said. 

Hephaestion rolled on his back and saw Cleitus offer him a hand. Frowning, he refused. “I am not a little girl. What are you so gallant about all of a sudden?”

“Protecting my interests.”

“Interests...” Hephaestion shot him a dark look, but then he complied and sat up. Looking at the Kohl in Cleitus’ hand, he asked, “Are you dressing me up?”

Cleitus smirked, “Would you like me to?”

He got no reply.

With a small stick, Cleitus began to apply black lines to accentuate Hephaestion’s large eyes.

“Lesson number one - always look beautiful. Be ready whenever the King sends for you,” Cleitus grinned. “Won’t take long to make you look beautiful.” He paused and lowered his arm. “You were always stunning, Hephaestion. Ever since you were a child, you outshone everyone.”

Hephaestion's eyes widened in surprise. “Well, I wouldn’t know, would I?”

“That's it,” Cleitus said, seeming satisfied with his job. While putting that jar away, he said, “Lesson number two is trickier. Always be prepared for the King's cock.” He took the last jar containing oil.

Their eyes locked and Cleitus saw the struggle. The promise to surrender mixed with a wild yearning to be free to go.

“I...”

“You can.”

“I can’t do this. I...” The young man had already begun to shake at the thought alone. “I can't lay on his bed and passively take his abuse for years to come.” Hephaestion closed his eyes. “Gods... I am acting like a little girl,” he mumbled, disappointed having confessed this before Cleitus of all.

The man didn't laugh. He just put an arm around Hephaestion and repeated, “Lesson number two. Always be prepared for the taking. You are too beautiful for the King to control himself around you, so you are doing yourself a favour to come prepared. In other words: Stick all four well oiled fingers in your arse and loosen the muscle.”

“Damn you, you know that?” Hephaestion grabbed the man's hands and freed himself. Falling onto his back, he quickly lifted his legs and kicked Cleitus in the chest. However, the black-haired officer knew that Hephaestion might prove difficult and anticipated the blow. Grabbing Hephaestion's feet, he bent one ankle painfully.

Hephaestion screamed in pain.

“I warned you. Now I'm gonna have to subdue you to the bed.”

“No! Please don't.”

“I cannot trust ya further than I can throw ya,” Cleitus growled.

“By the gods, please don't break it,” Hephaestion begged, believing him capable of doing so the last time he was in the exact same position.

Cleitus was an expert in inflicting excruciating pain to the bones; he could tell that Hephaestion could hardly breathe. Cleitus let go, watching him as the pain slowly lessened. Pulling him back up, he coaxed a very reluctant Hephaestion to straddle him on the bed, facing him.

“Let's get started.”

“Damn hate you, Cleitus.”

“Good,” Cleitus said but he wasn't laughing. “That’ll keep your will and spirits high if you hate us all.”

Hephaestion's pupils dilated as he felt oiled fingers questing his balls. Shuddering, he closed his eyes. “Hate all of you,” he gritted between his teeth.

“Go on,” Cleitus pressed against his anus. The salve had worked wonders, but he didn't take any chances and made sure his fingers were covered in slippery oil. Slowly, he passed the tight barrier, rubbing against the smooth wall. 

When he carefully rubbed his prostate, he smiled at the surprised jerk through the brunet’s body. 

“...ahh,” Hephaestion groaned.

“Be submissive and enjoy what he does to you,” Cleitus said.

“He does nothing that makes me enjoy it, Cleitus.” Hephaestion put his hands on his shoulders. “Ouch...”

“Relax, baby, you’re cutting off my finger if you don't stop squeezing your arse.”

“I...” Hephaestion was angry that Cleitus manipulated him. With a bump, he hit Cleitus’ head letting it roll against his, holding the contact constant.

“That's it, Hephaestion. Enjoy it.” Easing another finger inside, Cleitus felt the resistance was weaker but still, Hephaestion clenched reflexively.

Cleitus rubbed his pleasure spot some more, but was careful not over doing it... yet. Hephaestion moaned. He had felt it the first time Alexander took him, but that had been an experience mixed with dread for his life. The other times he had been raped before Alexander captured him, he had felt nothing but pain. However, this time was different.

“Damn you, Cleitus,” he moaned against the man's ear. His cock was getting hard and wet and he wanted to hit him.

“Come on,” Cleitus said, as he inserted a third finger, taking his time.

Hephaestion’s arms slid around Cleitus’ neck and he wanted more. “Cleitus... please,” he asked.

“What do you want?”

“Please, don't make me.”

“You want me to guess?”

Hephaestion just gasped. Their hard cocks rubbed aligned when he moved closer to Cleitus’ body, pressing himself against him, seeking the friction. 

“The King has no patience with me for this...”

“Sure? He is so in love with you.”

“Quiet - I sincerely don't like him.”

“Usually means the opposite...”

“Not this one...”

Hephaestion's mouth stopped talking as he felt Cleitus’ hand under his buttocks.

“Raise yourself,” he asked, and Hephaestion scooted back on his knees. “Come - let me get inside.”

Agreeably, Hephaestion returned and Cleitus arranged his knees under himself.

“Straddle me slowly.” Hephaestion lingered above him on his knees, ready to straddle him once more, letting Cleitus bury his cock in his arse.

“I don't know why I’m letting you do this to me. I should have scratched your eyes out by now.”

Cleitus just nodded. Then he said, “Can you feel me? My cock is so hard I can bounce you on it.”

Hephaestion shivered with pleasure, as he was filled slow and good. “Gods yes...” He repositioned one arm around Cleitus, who began bouncing him powerfully on his cock. With the other hand, he worked his own cock and writhing in rapture, he gasped sarcastically, “Is this the lesson?”

“Sure is,” Cleitus replied.

“What are you teaching me?”

“Oh, be gone – little minx.”

Thereafter, they concentrated on the pleasure they made together. As the orgasm subsided, Hephaestion slumped against him, enjoying the endorphins coursing his body in the aftermath. Then he saw Cleitus’ eyes. Obviously, the man was pretending not to have feelings for him. However, his cock betrayed him; his hands betrayed him. Calloused fingertips touched him and ran through his hair, turning Hephaestion’s skin into goose bumps. Slowly, Cleitus travelled down his spine so gently, Hephaestion shivered and arched his back with a lustful moan.

Putting his lips on Hephaestion's neck, Cleitus licked at the vein. Finally, the hands rested on his buttocks again and lifted him a fraction making it start all over.

With a surprising, none too gentle push, Hephaestion suddenly landed on his back. Cleitus tucked his cock away.

“End of lesson two.”

Hephaestion said nothing, but it felt like a slap in the face. Cleitus avoided his eyes and casting a look at the ring mark on Hephaestion’s hip, he quickly left his quarters.

Lying for a while, Hephaestion then heard a low whistle. Some time passed before he decided to react to it when the whistle turned into a discrete cough, making him aware of Risvan. The young body servant had made another wonderful bath and with a groan, he went to bathe. Eying the youth, Hephaestion knew he reeked of sex, but then it was pretty likely the boy had overheard the entire ordeal, so why would he care?

“You curse a lot,” the boy said.

Hephaestion shot him a look. “So?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“Sir?” Hephaestion snorted at the whole concept but remembered to respect that the boy had a position to fulfil. If he was told to address Hephaestion ‘Sir’, so be it. “Wash my hair, would you? Don’t’ use any of the perfume.” He didn’t want to reek like a whore. 

The hot water intensified the smells of lingering pheromones for a while and Hephaestion closed his eyes as the boy's nimble fingers massaged his skull. Slowly a daydream built up as the strong scent of Cleitus’ still lingered. Seeing the whole scene like a fly on the wall, he allowed himself to relive the whole incident again.

The boy stopped as Hephaestion's erection popped out of the water.

“Ignore it, Risvan,” he said and the boy quickly finished his task.

Getting out of the bath, Hephaestion went naked about in the apartment. He inspected the closets and took some lose pants and a silky light robe. Stepping back into the living room, he saw Cleitus standing there. “What do you want?” he asked reluctantly.

Cleitus set into motion toward him, his black hair falling softly around his face. Feeling a bolt of desire seeing him, Hephaestion backed up, hesitating.

“I'm taking you to see Alexander. Remember the lesson,” Cleitus warned.

“So soon? I have already forgotten it,” Hephaestion replied, his brain completely blank.

“Remember how good it felt and look forward to that.”

“I don't want to look forward to that...I...”

“Be quiet, Hephaestion,” Cleitus said softly, grabbing his face, as he neared him and pressed his hand to his mouth. Blue eyes on fire met his own, and cursing inwardly, he regretted having to take Hephaestion to see Alexander. He knew nothing would change by it, and Hephaestion end up being raped again; Alexander would yet again be devastated by his unrequited love.

 _And yourself, Cleitus?_ he asked himself, but the answer got stuck feeling soft lips pressed against the palm of his hands. He was aroused, easily capable of taking the young man again. He even wanted to. Hephaestion would need many lessons before he had learned to appreciate bottoming, because that's all he would ever get around Alexander.

Cleitus slowly removed his hand. He had brought the Kohl, and quickly repaired the damages the bath had inflicted. 

Running his eyes over his body, Cleitus nodded, “You’ll do. Pull yourself together and make sure Alexander enjoys you.”

Hephaestion had a sharp retort on his tongue, but closing his eyes, he just shrugged.

“Move!”

Hephaestion did, and passing the guards, they proceeded in silence. Being left alone in Alexander's bedroom, he sighed and went to sit on the bed.

}¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ 

Standing behind a mirror, Alexander watched him. He was beautiful, his painted eyes seemed like huge glittering jewels, his pants revealed the contours of his soft cock, and the robe had slid down one tanned shoulder, making his collarbone exquisite the way it caught the soft sunlight. He adored the sight of him, desired, and loved him. But he also hated him; hated his dignity and resentment, as the only reason he even sat there was that he was commanded to, not because he wanted to.

Sighing, Alexander stepped away from the mirror. He approached Hephaestion, who didn't look up. The King ran a hand from an ear and under his chin to the other ear. Hephaestion demonstratively stared at his feet.

“Look up,” Alexander demanded. Obeying, Hephaestion did nothing to hide his feelings. His face still bore witness to the beatings he had endured. 

“What do you want, Alexander?”

The blond man smiled, and the caress extended to cup the back of Hephaestion's head. Pulling, Alexander made Hephaestion stand, fitting his other hand around his throat. He didn't squeeze but then there was no sign of fear in Hephaestion’s eyes. In fact, there was no emotion at all.

After a while, Alexander bent to kiss behind his ear, licking the dark-tanned skin. “You smell so good,” Alexander whispered. Hephaestion hadn't perfumed himself; it was his own scent, clean and manly. Alexander put his hands on the brunet’s hips and dragged his pants down the top of his thighs.

Burying his nose against Hephaestion's hard belly, he ignored the marks he found there as well. They had faded to a yellowish shadow, but still visible.

“Do you hurt?”

“Do you care?” Hephaestion retorted.

Alexander smiled at him. “You will never give me a chance, will you?”

“I don't want to be here,” Hephaestion replied automatically.

“You surrendered! It is not an option for you to leave anymore. Your duty is to submit to what ever job description you might have.”

Hephaestion’s eyelids fluttered in disbelief and then with an incredulous expression in his face, he looked down at the kneeling King, crossing his arms over his chest and spat out his comment. “And what is my damn job description except to be groped ad libitum by whomever feels like it? Huh?” 

Waiting for Alexander to respond, Hephaestion cooled down a bit. Patience was revealed in his eyes and he said, “I know too much time has passed by now, Alexander. Had I been found after that fateful day, everything would have been different, including matters between you and me.” He stopped breathing for a short while, and then, he suddenly burst, “Does my family still live?”

Not being prepared to answer that question, Alexander said nothing. He thought it odd and wondered if Hephaestion even remembered his parents and siblings. Instead, the King chose to answer the first part of his statement. “Yes... everything would have been different; you and I would have shared this bed as equals.”

Hearing this, Hephaestion stepped back and went to lie on the bed. Obviously, the King was delusional; Hephaestion would never be his equal, despite Alexander claimed at an earlier occasion that he would never be one without him.

Smiling, Alexander went to join him. Reaching out, he grabbed the edge of Hephaestion’s pants. The brunet lifted his hips making it easier for him to do his task, and burying his nose in Hephaestion’s sex, he breathed in his scent deeply.

Gritting his teeth at the contact, Hephaestion felt a little panic rise. Alexander was already travelling up his body, his cock jutting through his robe, kissing his skin with a hard suction, almost drawing blood to the surface of his skin. His fingers were busy thrusting in his opening.

“You have prepared yourself for me, haven’t you?” Moaning excitedly against his mouth, Alexander was back next to him. “Disrobe me, Hephaestion,” Alexander said with shining eyes.

Nodding, when the fingers withdrew from him, Hephaestion began divesting the blond of his robe. Alexander touched his hands while he did it, and Hephaestion had to force himself not to withdraw with the discomfort, making his face seem strained and concentrated.

“Relax. Could you just relax?” Alexander asked, and grabbed his hand to put it on his cock.

Hephaestion shuddered and tried to imagine another scenario instead, but it was impossible when Alexander latched his mouth on his neck, pressing him to the mattress on his stomach. Pushing inside him, Alexander moaned in relief.

Hephaestion was silent. He didn't stand a chance of using any of Cleitus’ lessons. He couldn't give false affection, he just knew it, and anyway, Alexander did not have patience for any foreplay. He just thrust fast and laboured, not really hitting Hephaestion's prostate. With great relief, the blue-eyed man felt Alexander come, falling over him. Not even being hard, all Hephaestion wanted was for Alexander to get off him, only he didn't. The King seemed intent on giving Hephaestion pleasure when he had rather he did not.

“You didn't come, Hephaestion. Let me help you,” Alexander said in the way that was not to be argued.

 _Damnit, I can’t,_ Hephaestion thought, and frustrated, he looked at the ceiling with damned tears burning his irises.

Alexander began to blow him, fondling the ring shaped mark, but nothing happened. Minutes passed and he stayed limp. Alexander was sweating; he could smell it, his confusion why nothing happened. Suddenly, Hephaestion pushed his head away. “I... I can’t.”

“Do it yourself.”

“What difference does it make?”

Alexander looked at him. “It would indicate you enjoyed it.”

Hephaestion looked ironically at him. “Apparently, I didn't. You just... mount me and make your deposit... Why would I enjoy that?” he blurted. “Excuse me, but I need to clean myself...”

“Stay here!”

“No, by the gods, I won’t!” Hephaestion stepped out of the bed and put on his clothes and sandals to get to his quarters... as always, escorted. 

Alexander stood back. Hephaestion's scent was everywhere and he inhaled the musk on his fingers. _Next time... hopefully, you will enjoy it next time, Hephaestion,_ Alexander thought, but in truth, he didn't enjoy it either. 

Why couldn't he just let go of him? He just couldn't. Whatever was the matter lay deeper and he couldn't put his finger on why it was so difficult to let go of the grown-up Hephaestion. Thinking about the boy Hephaestion, he marked him, branded him. He now realised he thought different about the branding than Hephaestion had done back then. Perhaps Alexander branded Hephaestion as his property already at the ceremony?

A childhood memory emerged. Hiding behind a curtain, Alexander had watched his father King Philip with a page. The King let candle wax drip down the servant’s spine, and watching fascinated, Alexander witnessed the willing sex partner wantonly arching his buttocks, grinding into his father's groin.

When Alexander heard his father say, “Now you’re branded - you're my property, aren't you?” His interest was perked further.

Soft laughter repeated itself, echoing distortedly in his mind. Alexander had forgotten the memory, but he knew the idea of branding Hephaestion sprung from that. Having Hephaestion mark him back only fulfilled the idea.

Hephaestion loved him unconditionally back then. He would do anything for him, and Alexander took advantage of his love, didn't he? Wanting to play the branding game so badly, and maybe get from Hephaestion what his father got from the page. So far, he and Hephaestion had only kissed and wanked, but Alexander was ready for more after seeing how his father ‘handled’ those close to him. Even now, Alexander got hard at the thought of branding him again. “Damn you father, I am too much like you.” Property, cattle, there was hardly any difference.

Assembling Hephaestion to his bedroom was a humiliating act, knowing he didn’t gain anything by it, but by the Gods, he hoped that Hephaestion would change in time and again become the childhood Hephaestion who loved him above everything. Alexander knew about Cleitus’ lessons earlier today. Little Risvan had dutifully reported.

“Did Hephaestion look like he liked it?” Alexander had to ask.

The boy just shrugged, “I wouldn't know about these things, your Majesty.”

“Did he ask the general to leave him alone?”

“Mostly, they argued I think - I didn't really look. Just listened.” The boy looked very uncomfortable.

Dismissing the boy, Alexander went to the window and looked at the beautiful scenery of the night, the river’s glittery waves, the lit house windows of the city. Sadness filled him. “God I love you so much. You’re breaking my heart,” Alexander cried.

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Cleitus felt how the guards did their best not to stare at him, as he paced the front of Hephaestion's door. It was past noon when he finally approached. “Move!” he barked at the guards, who complied without blinking, stepping inside.

Slowly walking toward Hephaestion's bedroom, Cleitus passed a trinket curtain, revealing his presence. Golden Organza hanging from the roof fluttered in the breeze coming from the open window and the room perfumed by orange scented oil lamps. Finally, he stepped close to the bed. Finding it empty, he looked up and saw Hephaestion standing still with his back to the tapestry across from the bed.

Cleitus stepped closer and Hephaestion slid further away, clutching a silk sheet around his naked body. 

“What do you want?”

“I hoped we could continue the lessons.”

“What for? The King can't distinguish foreplay from rape even though I tried.”

“You tried?” Cleitus asked.

“Yes - but I wasn't any good. I can hardly stand his touch.”

“Try harder,” Cleitus said.

“I don’t want to! And I can’t,” Hephaestion said, moving further away, his eyes boring into Cleitus’.

The black-haired warrior stepped closer still, and smiled as Hephaestion raised his right arm and touched the tapestry with his palm, moving further away.

_You're not even aware you're flirting, are you, Hephaestion?_

Hephaestion lifted his chin and they kept staring as the game continued. Eventually, Hephaestion reached the corner of the room. Moments later, Cleitus stood a few yards in front of him. Their breaths quickened. Hephaestion let the sheet fall and Cleitus assumed as much, when he saw his erection.

“I made you aroused by coming here,” Cleitus said.

“Whatever gave you that idea...?” Hephaestion said sarcastically. Then he set into motion to escape the brown-eyed man.

“Damn you, you little sexy minx,” Cleitus growled, pursuing him.

Hephaestion was close to the door, and knowing the blue-eyed man, Cleitus knew he would run naked through the palace if he had to. “I’m not doing anything,” he teased.

“Give me some credit, would you?” Hephaestion said.

“Fine. Whether or not the lessons work, you will be taught new ones, got it? That means private lessons,” he smirked.

Hephaestion didn't answer when Cleitus came to stand in front of him. 

Cupping Hephaestion’s chin gently, he then murmured, “Apparently, seducing Alexander is overrated. You're past that. You need to learn how to love him.”

“Love cannot be taught. Either you do or you don’t.”

“You used to love him, you know,” Cleitus said, knowing he’d release a prompt reaction, and Hephaestion didn’t disappoint him.

“Aaaahhhh!!!!” the beautiful face turned instantly furious in a loud scream. “I don't remember any fucking love from him! Do I have to slice the words in my skin for you to fucking remember that?”

Cleitus winced at the sheer volume of his outburst. 

“I remember a boy. Not any love... And the pain from the branding...” His voice softened, “...that's all... the pain... shit.” Hephaestion looked away. He hated to talk about these vulnerable things. They made his eyes water and gave Cleitus advantages he didn't want to grant him.

Cleitus said nothing; all he did was reach out his hand. Hephaestion took it and allowed him to pull him closer.

“Why did you grow hard for me?” Cleitus mumbled in his hair, as he held him.

Hephaestion ignored the question. His body was tingling and the answer was very simple. Alexander couldn't arouse him, Cleitus could. The danger around the man, his dark demeanour and threats, spoke to something perverse inside Hephaestion that he hadn't thought he would find sexually stimulating.

“Did Alexander satisfy you?” Cleitus bit his earlobe.

“No I didn't feel anything. Couldn't feel aroused with him, but he tried.”

“Did I satisfy you?”

Hephaestion gasped delighted at the bold question. “Oh yes... you did,” he answered. 

Removing his chiton, Cleitus then matched Hephaestion’s nakedness. He lifted Hephaestion, who wrapped his legs around him. Looking for leveraged, Cleitus took them back to the door, resting them against it. “Are you still open?” he asked.

“How the fuck would I know and why would you care?” Hephaestion hissed without conviction behind his words, but Cleitus knew he was protecting himself from revealing too many feelings. The words were nothing short of an endearment as he could muster from his young partner.

Still, Hephaestion cried out as Cleitus pinned him on his shaft and began thrusting. Pain mixed with pleasure that took his breath away.

“Am I too fast for you?” Cleitus gasped. Hephaestion's body gripped him so tightly, so exquisitely he rode himself toward pleasure too soon. Hard and fast he fucked the beauty against the door, not gently or lovingly as the lessons prescribed, mostly the back of Hephaestion’s head connected erratically with the carved wooden slab due to the eager pounding from the forceful general.

“You like it?”

“Yes,” Hephaestion admitted. He did like it. In fact, he was so hard and excited that he imagined he would come any second by the constant friction of having his cock trapped between their bodies. Blindly, he turned his face and when their tongues met, he climaxed with a hungry moan.

Cleitus felt the muscles clamp down on his cock, the tightness almost painful. Nothing compared to a nice tight sheath. He continued to thrust into the squeezing vice.

“By the gods,” he groaned into Hephaestion’s mouth, “You’re so fucking tight, sweet little minx, sweet Hephaestion... Hephaestion...” A deep sigh, as he came shuddering in delight.

Sagging in the man’s arms, Hephaestion made them both slump in the aftermath, sliding down the door. 

Looking into Hephaestion’s drowsy, dreamy eyes, Cleitus felt something. It wasn’t a strange thought; he’d had it for many years, just been more careful than Alexander. The minx had been right. He had watched Hephaestion since he was a boy. How could he not? He even bested in wrestling as a child, usually winning against Alexander. It was no wonder he was so good at escaping hands trying to tie him down these past few days.

Hephaestion was a winner – a most desirable kind of nature that had attracted Cleitus very early on - just like Alexander had.

He put his hand in Hephaestion’s hair. “Get up, Hephaestion.”

The younger man did, and he just stared at the dark skinned soldier as he dressed. Cleitus went past him and opened the door. 

The guards jerked to attention. Obviously, they had listened in on the rough sex happening on the other side.

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After relieving himself in the closet toilet, Hephaestion staggered to the bathing room. "Risvan!" he called, but the boy was nowhere. Quickly, he washed away traces of spent passion from his body and walked back into his bedroom. Startled, he saw someone sitting on a stool. "Who are you?"

"Don't you recognise me?"

Frowning, Hephaestion went to get some clothes first, and then he came back and stared at the man, blond, with large blue eyes; he looked kind. Slowly, he realised who he was. "...Sethardies. you're Sethardies?"

The man smiled and rose to his feet, extending his hand. "I'm flattered, and grateful to meet you again. My thoughts have reached out to you all these years."

Hephaestion grabbed his hand with both of his in desperation. "Then help me... Please... You of all would understand.”

"Understand what?"

"That I cannot stay here. They're driving me crazy."

"I merely came to visit you."

"And what? To reminisce good old times?"

"Hardly. I never told anyone what was done me... I wish I could forget everything like you supposedly have. Anyway - I needed to see if the rumours were true. And they seem to be."

"What do you mean?"

"They don't really have any use of you other than the obvious and I'm truly appalled, Hephaestion."

"Please... Sethardies... I will die if I can't..."

"Die?" Sethardies looked puzzled.

"I would kill myself - I can feel it. I will make those guards do it for me."

"No, no - no need for such drama. I will help you."

"When?" Hephaestion’s eyes were anxious.

"Soon."

"How soon?" 

"Give me some time to work it out," Sethardies replied, needing to get away from the crazy person who once was his friend.

Hephaestion sighed and went to sit on the bed. 

"I will do what I can."

Hephaestion just nodded. "Sure."

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A few days passed, when neither Alexander nor Cleitus came to his quarters. Slowly, Hephaestion grew restless and nervous, spending most of his time with his ear pressed against the door listening to the guards' gossiping when the next shift took over, not that it gave him any information; they usually discussed women.

Pacing in front of the bathroom, Hephaestion eventually went inside and touched the facilities. "Risvan?" he asked, but the boy had been absent a few days. Hephaestion sat down on a divan and softly cried. Gradually, the sobbing stilled. 

Undressing, as he filled the tub with water, he looked at the various products in beautiful glass jars. Smelling a couple of scents, he chose one and put it in the water. The temperature was a bit too cool, but he quickly washed and rinsed. Shivering, he went back into the living room, and put on fresh clothes and sandals. 

The room was messy. He felt like he wasn't really there. Picking up a tiny glass ornament, he suddenly dropped it to the floor. Fuelled by a sudden rage, he began smashing as much and as hard as possible, making sure to hit the walls as well.

Soon his screams reached the guards' attention and they quickly entered the room, facing an enraged prisoner, determined to destroy every single piece of furniture. As soon as Hephaestion realised the door was unguarded, he fled for freedom.

One of the guards caught him, but he freed himself easily, using dirty tricks, hitting the man's eyeballs; he dragged the man’s dagger from its sheath. Now he had a weapon.

"Stop right there..." Hephaestion saw the arrow resting on the bow, pointing at him. 

"Shoot..." he challenged the man with a smile. "I want you to kill me - end my suffering." Slowly he began walking backwards, manoeuvring through the trinket curtain. The guard lowered his weapon and went after him, when Hephaestion went outside.

Hurriedly, he soon reached the hall before coming to the grand area where there were no hiding places. He ran fast and agilely to cross it. "Fuck!" he cried desperately, when he saw someone coming. Why would someone come in this particular moment? He had been alone for so long, in between being fed, but now he was facing new obstacles. Slowing down, he turned.

The guard was closing in on him. “Think fast Hephaestion, fucking think!” he mocked himself. His eyes darted from enemy to enemy and then he set into motion, attacking the approaching men.

Surprised, they spread instead of grabbing him.

“Get him, you fools!” Antigones commanded.

“No! Let him go!” The shout came from Sethardies, who had demanded to come along to gather the prisoner.

Confused the men hesitated.

“MOVE!”

“He won’t get far...”

“You’re naïve, Sethardies,” Antigones sneered.

“He hasn't done anything. Alexander has no purpose keeping him put.”

“It's not your business to question the King's motives.”

Sethardies just stared. “Oh, please! I respect him, but he is behaving irrationally.”

Antigones didn't seem impressed. “Like I said - it's none of your business.”

“General!!” A soldier came running. “He got away.”

“WHAT??” Antigones yelled. “How in the bloody name of Hades did you accomplish that?”

The soldier started to explain, but Antigones growled pushing the man aside and ran to join the others.

Sethardies stood still and a smile spread on his face. “Great. Get as far away from us as you can.”

}¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ 

Finally reaching the stables, Hephaestion busied himself looking for the same stable boy from a week ago. Using the same excuse, he tried to trick the boy into giving him a horse, but this time, the boy reacted reluctantly. When Hephaestion on his own account grabbed a horse, the boy went to alarm people. Quickly, he led the horse outside where he was confronted by a larger stable boy, whom Hephaestion, without thinking, knocked unconscious. He was desperate to get away as he saw the soldiers approaching too close by now. Hanging by the mane, he swung to the horse's back. He just hoped he wouldn't get thrown off as the horse galloped toward the gates.

The guards there didn't respond either. 

"Open in the name of King Alexander!" he commanded. 

The guards ignored him and so Hephaestion was facing the soldiers coming for him. Slowly, he raised the dagger and when he put the edge to rest across his throat, Antigones shouted, “Stop! No need for that!”

The group of men stared at each other. Having been summoned as well, Cleitus came toward them. “Where is Alexander?” he called out.

“Am not bothering him with every single one of the whore’s antics,” Antigones replied.

“Let the minx go,” Cleitus said, and to Hephaestion he added, “I will find you.”

Hephaestion's eyes were too calm; Cleitus had no doubt he would in fact slit his throat. “Step away from him, all of you!” he commanded.

Shortly after, the gates were opened and seconds later, Hephaestion galloped toward the city.

“How do you expect to find him?”

Cleitus looked at Antigones. “He will want me to find him. He doesn't belong in the city any longer either. He will expose himself and sooner or later becoming a misfit, no matter where he goes.”

Amused, Antigones put his arms across his chest. “Very sure of yourself, Cleitus.”

Cleitus nodded. “What? With Hephaestion? Count on it.”

Letting the horse drift back to the palace, Hephaestion slid back into safe quarters. Stealing clothes from a clothesline, he replaced the simple garments with his own finer ones. That accomplished, he could shake off most of his nerves as he settled in his old neighbourhood, and carefully drifted around in the familiar places. 

Soon he was taken aback. In a shallow alley, he witnessed a thief being raped with an enthusiastic audience. There were no chopping of limbs, but the thief was manhandled viciously to compensate the King’s directive.

Hephaestion felt eyes on him, and he bolted away from the sickening sight. Walking agitatedly around in the market places, he still felt eyes on him, and in the end, it drove him paranoid.

Seeking the more shadowed parts of the neighbourhood, he still sensed something extraordinary and simply couldn’t shake the feeling. 

He ended up getting his old lodgings back. Strangely, the old geezer still had his belongings; he imagined Alexander had paid the man. Hephaestion didn't go anywhere from now on, and the old man didn't complain he didn’t pay rent. It felt like another prison he couldn’t escape.

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“Old man?”

“Oh, you startled me,” Hephaestion’s landlord said, looking nervously at the military man who interrupted his task. “What can I do for you?”

“Got your old tenant back as planned?”

“Might not be your business...”

Cleitus flashed a few coins. “Any business of the King’s is my business.”

“Very well... this morning as a matter of fact. He’s the very same you’ve been chasing earlier. Only penniless...” he insinuated.

“Don’t bother him about rent. Got it? You’ll get your fucking rent. Don't tell this to a bloody soul. I want him to stay right there. He is not to be scared away, or I will break your scrawny neck myself,” Cleitus threatened. He gave him a few more coins. “Keep me posted.”

Returning a few days later, the old man informed him that Hephaestion didn't eat, rarely left his quarters and generally seemed defeated and indifferent toward anything.

Worried, Cleitus stepped into the house.

“Gods, you stink,” he said, looking at Hephaestion. “You look exactly like when we met the first time.”

Hephaestion's hair looked like a haystack, his clothes dirty and clearly not his own.

“Ready to come with me?”

Hephaestion hadn't spoken in a while. He just kept picking in the dirt.

“Lost your tongue?” 

Hephaestion hardly spared a glance at the General. “I'm not going back,” he croaked.

“And this is better? The old geezer said you have become paranoid." 

“Thanks to you. I feel your eyes in my back all time.”

“I told you you couldn’t escape me.”

“So you did,” Hephaestion rasped.

“Water, old man!” Cleitus commanded, and Hephaestion laughed a little hysterically, having never seen his landlord respond so fast. He must be paid well.

“Come, Hephaestion, my beautiful Hephaestion.”

“Where to?” Slowly he raised the dagger at his side. When Cleitus didn’t answer, he repeated, “Where... to?”

Cleitus received a bucket of water and resolutely tossed the water over him, shocking Hephaestion momentarily, and he won over the dagger easily.

Hephaestion screamed and futilely reached out for his weapon. “No!!!” he sobbed, as Cleitus pulled him to his legs and feet. His limbs wouldn't support him and he sacked in Cleitus’ arms.

Pulling him up much harder, Cleitus tried to look into his eyes. The room was too dark and Hephaestion’s hair was all over his face.

Dropping the dagger, Cleitus cradled him in both arms. “Old man!” he shouted again. When the landlord appeared, Cleitus growled, “Hasn't he been fed at all?”

“He threatened me with the dagger, General Cleitus. What did you expect me...”

“Fuck off!” Cleitus yelled.

Lifting Hephaestion, he motioned to leave the house. “Pack his stuff and I will have someone come and fetch it.”

"And my pay?” the man sneered.

“You will get your pay.” Cleitus’ black eyes glinted dangerously and he left.

“Put me down,” Hephaestion requested outside, feeling humiliated.

“Fine,” Cleitus said and unceremoniously dumped him promptly. Hephaestion sank weekly to the dusty ground. Groaning, he tried to get up, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. Since he hadn’t eaten in days, he now paid the price for being so stupid to return to a place he had been connected with earlier.

Cleitus smiled and pulled him back up. “Fuck, you’re heavy,” he grunted. 

After a while, they came to a nice common shanty with pretty baldachins stretched over palm trees, keeping the entrance in shades. Inside - Cleitus was greeted with kisses from the three women living there.

“This is your new tenant...” He stopped talking as he noticed how interested they were in his protégé. Despite how dirty and smelly Hephaestion was at the moment, he was still looking striking. “Don’t even think about taking advantage and bed him. Just make sure he’s still alive when I return tomorrow.”

}¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ 

Hephaestion felt softness surround him, hot wetness caressing his skin and he caught himself hoping it wasn't a dream but that he was back at the palace. Being too exhausted to rationalise that of course he didn't want to be back at the palace, and the house arrest in the dreadful boring apartment all by himself. The gentle hands caressing and washing his body felt soothing on his soul as did the sweet voices and soft singing. Occasionally, he agreed to eat, but usually he fought against it, and he became more tired and calm as the hours flew by. He wasn’t really hungry.

At some point, he thought he heard Cleitus’ angry voice, but when was the man not annoyed at someone? He laughed thinking that was pretty funny.

“How much did you give him, you stupid woman?” Cleitus warned the woman he spoke to.

“I just kept him sedated, when he became trouble. He hit Rayma twice while washing him!”

“Washing? I bet she did. I'm sure she sucked him dry before riding him.”

“You’re a pig, Cleitus!” she yelled at him.

Grinning, Cleitus went inside to find the clean washed minx lying naked in all his beauty. Kneeling to sit aligned with his face, he found Hephaestion looking much better than he had yesterday.

“Did you feed him today?” he asked the woman.

“Yes. Thrice... though small amounts.”

“No more drugs. I want him alert. He’s too intelligent to turn stupid with opium. He will probably not survive too much ‘kindness’,” Cleitus said sarcastically. “Get out,” he commanded. 

Making himself comfortable in the corner of the divan, he arranged Hephaestion’s head on his shoulder, his body resting along his own. Stroking his hair, they just sat for a while.

Recognising Cleitus’ scent had a calming effect of Hephaestion, and he allowed himself to relax enough to fall asleep with his arms around the man's body, spending the entire night feeling safe.

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Alexander had reacted oddly to Hephaestion’s latest escape.

“It is a relief?” Ptolemy asked at breakfast.

Alexander shrugged. “It didn't work. I could try getting him back, but to what use?”

Ptolemy came closer. “At least, we now know how good he was taking care of himself. He would be a spectacular soldier for the army. How he foresaw to escape, indicates an impressive skill of strategy, maybe even logistics.”

“Logistics?” Alexander tapped his chin as his eyes became distant.

Ptolemy cursed his own tongue. “Not again! You will lose him completely if you pursue him once more.”

“But he could have a position...”

“Alexander...” Ptolemy put both his hands on his shoulders. “Brother...” he pleaded. “The moment you lay eyes on him, you will want him under you. He’s not meant to put behind a desk. He’s a wild soul and not a domesticated nobleman. See?”

Alexander furled his brow. 

“Just be happy you found him,” Ptolemy said, searching for comprehension in the velvet eyes and when Alexander closed them, Ptolemy hoped that he had succeeded - for everybody's sake, but especially Hephaestion’s. “Why don't we concentrate on the Indian campaign? And Darius?”

Interrupting the King's breakfast with Ptolemy, Cleitus came and joined them.

“What news?”

“I didn't find him. Word has it, he escaped at the harbour.”

Slowly, Alexander got up. “How could he possibly purchase a passage on a boat? He didn't have that kind of money, did he?” Alexander laughed shakily. "He couldn't leave, really?” He looked at his other generals gathered.

Cleitus exchanged a look with Ptolemy, who read the message in his eyes: that no, Hephaestion couldn't really leave. Apparently, Cleitus knew where he was, and that was how far the information went.

Leaving Alexander to his sad musings, Ptolemy pulled Cleitus aside. “Where is he?”

“Gone. Safe. Understand?” Cleitus replied.

Ptolemy sighed. “Imagine what would have happened if we had turned our eyes away that fateful day?”

“A beautiful creature would have lost his hands, Ptolemy.”

“True. I had forgotten about that. Alexander would still be brooding like he does now,” Ptolemy cast a short look toward Alexander.

“Even the real Hephaestion couldn’t make him get over his lost childhood love. Truly ironic, isn't it?”

“It is,” Ptolemy agreed, and then he looked at Cleitus again, “Where is he?”

Cleitus winked and said, “Gone, my friend.”

Ptolemy smiled. It was probably for the best. He didn't dare to think how the guards would react if they were to restrain the agile Hephaestion once more. Eventually, someone would die, and someone nearly had.

They began walking. Cleitus had a peculiar look on his face, a little smile, and then it dawned on Ptolemy.

“By the love of the gods - you are keeping him to yourself!”

Cleitus face turned to stone. “What?”

Ptolemy stopped, and Cleitus turned to face him.

“Are you not?”

Cleitus looked away; it was impossible to fake that Ptolemy wasn't right, but he only said, “Mind your own business. It is going to cost him his life, and then Alexander will still never have won over his heart.”

“Where is he?” Ptolemy demanded to know.

“And if I told you?” Cleitus replied amused, “What would you do with the knowledge?”

“Put him back in Alexander's bed.”

“Tsk-tsk,” Cleitus said. “Has it occurred to you that neither is happy when that happens?”

Ptolemy nodded. “I could have you arrested for disobeying orders, Cleitus.”

The black-haired general stepped closer. “Haven’t we wasted enough time trying to match two people who are each other's worst destiny?”

Ptolemy didn't answer.

“Besides - ” Cleitus said toward him, “He _is_ gone. He took the boat and I paid the captain myself to put him on that ship.”

“You didn’t. You lie to me and by that, you lie to your King.”

“He’s gone,” Cleitus repeated and went past Ptolemy into the courtyard toward the stables.

Ptolemy followed slowly. _Should I have someone follow him?_

}¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ ◦◦◦ }¤{ 

Cleitus was soon riding toward his destination, a tavern famous for its high entertainment. He had arranged with Hephaestion to meet him there. He saw him right away, sitting in the corner, looking tipsy and beautiful. When he sat down next to him, Hephaestion smiled warmly, and Cleitus felt a swell of his heart.

“You got drunk without me?” he joked, and signalled for a jug.

Soon, they sat drinking and talking. Hephaestion was in a lovely mood, singing and dancing. Cleitus was seeing another carefree side to him. At some point, he looked up and thought he saw a hooded man at the table in the other part of the tavern. In his drunken state, he thought he looked like Alexander, but why would the King show up here? Moreover, how would he know? The next time he looked, the man was gone. Cleitus focused then on Hephaestion who was involved in two belly dancers’ advances. He was laughing and smiling, dancing seductively, but constantly shooting Cleitus glances to make sure he was watching.

Returning to the palace later, Cleitus went straight to see his King.

Alexander looked up when Cleitus was announced. “Why did you lie to me?” he asked after the formal greeting.

Cleitus halted. “About what?”

“Don't be coy with me, you saw me.”

“Make up your mind, Alexander.”

“Hephaestion was there. He never left you. You lied to Ptolemy.”

“He went straight to you and dutifully told you where I was, did he?”

“When the informer returned, not Ptolemy.”

“He must have acted quickly.”

“Apparently he did, Cleitus. Ptolemy is quick when he wants to be.”

They stared at each other for a while, and then Cleitus nodded. “He’s all right, Ptolemy. I have no problems with him.”

“I want him back, Cleitus.”

Cleitus sighed. “You want to continue doing this? Keeping him in prison for what reason?”

“That isn’t your business really, is it? You’re done fucking him. You’ve had your fun, but he’s my property.”

Hesitating, Cleitus wondered how much he should say without revealing too much.

“I know where you put him. The whorehouse, correct?” Alexander said.

Cleitus’ eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“At this very moment, Hephaestion is recaptured and on his way here. That’s all - you can go. I'm bringing him with us on the campaign. He’s going to be a soldier and become what he should have been from the beginning.”

Cleitus’ body was filled with rage. However, to argue with the King was futile. He had better act fast and make sure if what Alexander said was actually true - and this time, not allow himself to be followed by any of Ptolemy's informers.

Disguising himself in a cloak, Cleitus returned to the city. He didn't go to the whorehouse, but went to another place and with great relief he found Hephaestion snoring right where he left him. One of the belly dancers agreed to spare a bed for him. Cleitus was not stupid and knew that Ptolemy would have helped Alexander even if it wasn't a sane action.

Hephaestion was naked and, when Cleitus sniffed his lips, the rosy flesh smelled of sex. As it were, the girl lay naked, snuggling next to him, with Hephaestion’s arm safely under her neck.

Carefully, Cleitus sat next him on the bed. “Maybe I should just leave you here...” he mused.

The movement created when he sat down, made Hephaestion open his eyes. Turning, he saw Cleitus, reached for the black-haired man, and pulled him down for a kiss.

Cleitus accepted the gift and pushed down the cover. His lips left the soft smiling mouth and travelled further down.

Hephaestion gasped and a grin spread on his face.

Cleitus began licking his cock.

“Stop,” Hephaestion laughed, “I just had sex.”

“Yeah, but not with me.”

“She’ll be offended, don't you think?”

“You’re mine now.”

Hephaestion didn't complain that his cock grew anew. “I’m nobody’s,” he said, digging his fingers into Cleitus’ hair. “Kiss me,” he asked.

Cleitus licked his cock head and pulled his mouth back on his a few seconds before returning to suck his cock hard and efficiently.

Watching under heavy eyelids, Hephaestion soon climaxed, pumping his hips, trying to hurt the man. Cleitus drew a hand across his mouth after Hephaestion’s cock slipped away. 

The younger man’s eyes were challenging. “Now what?” he grinned and bent to kiss the girl. She had watched the blowjob.

Hephaestion got up and stood in front of Cleitus, holding his head. 

“Alexander wants to make a soldier of you.”

“Why would I want to fight his wars?”

“To expand the Empire. To secure borders. To turn enemies into allies...”

“I don't give a shit who is king. At least, Darius didn’t...”

“Stop that,” Cleitus put his hand over his mouth, but quickly, Hephaestion freed himself and Cleitus sighed.

“Don't you see how perfect you are for it? The manoeuvres you just made were taught you as a child. Your body remembers and you’re an even better wrestler now.

“Wrestler? I'm not a wrestler.”

“You were. You were brilliant and always bested Alexander. Always ahead of everybody else - you could have been a champion athlete but you were designed for court life and wars. I saw this - I was there helping out in the gymnasium.”

Hephaestion drew close again and pressed his belly against Cleitus’ face, embracing his head and caressing his hair. Bending his knees, he squatted and Cleitus kissed him.

“Do you mind?” the girl asked, annoyed at being ignored in her own bed. 

“You’ve had your fun,” Cleitus said to her.

“So it is your turn now? Is he a whore who takes rounds with everyone?”

“No,” Cleitus said, rubbing a thumb across pink lips. Hephaestion had the most fuckable mouth. "He’s not. I am going to fuck him by myself and you’re not invited, but you can watch,” Cleitus smirked.

“Pig,” she said, but nevertheless she settled to watch them come back into bed.

Crawling between Hephaestion’s legs, Cleitus pushed them wide apart. “Let me see you,” he said and spread the cheeks wider. He exclaimed, “Yes. You are my whore all right...” The female handed him a flask of oil and he applied some.

Hephaestion grabbed the sheets, his blue depths piercing Cleitus’ eyes whenever the man took a quick glance making sure they agreed at least some of the way. Pleased by the state of Hephaestion’s hole, Cleitus bent forward and licked one of Hephaestion’s tight little nipples.

The younger man groaned at the pressure on his joints. His entrance opened naturally, as Cleitus knew it would, well-stretched and glistening with oil, Cleitus put four oiled fingers inside him until only the crook between his thumb and index finger prevented further penetration. Slowly, he twirled his hand, folding the thumb and slowly proceeded.

“What are you doing?” the woman asked as Cleitus’ hand pushed forward in a slow motion.

Looking down at what Cleitus was trying to accomplish, Hephaestion said, “Pull that fucking hand out and use your dick!”

Cleitus laughed and barked, “Keep your goddamn mouth shut!”

Mumbling ‘pig’, she quickly left and Hephaestion laughed, “There goes another lodging. I’ll get thrown out from here after this, Cleitus. You’re not very, subtle are you?”

“No,” Cleitus said and sucked hard on Hephaestion’s nipple.

“Release my poor flesh,” Hephaestion said, and then hissed when Cleitus sucked roughly. “I can't stand it!” Hephaestion screamed in pleasure.

Cleitus just smiled and moved further down. “Turn, baby,” he said, “I want to watch your flesh jiggle when I fuck you.”

Hephaestion grinned, “She's right. You are a pig, you sick bastard!”

“A bastard I’m not – but...” He was interrupted as Hephaestion cried out when he reinserted his fingers, rubbing his prostate gland.

“No - no more. Too much! Give me your cock!”

Cleitus grinned, “Any time. Anything for you.” He slid inside easily, and stroking Hephaestion’s flanks, he rested his hands on his butt cheeks, spreading them to have a better look as his cock thrust languidly in and out.

Watching the flexible, circular opening swallow his rod was swiftly prompting him toward release. “Fuck - your ass is so sexy. I’m coming too soon. You’re a witch, my little minx,” Cleitus babbled, grabbing his lover’s hips to slam him back and forth on his cock.

Hephaestion was gasping in rapture. His hair fanned all over the mattress. Cleitus let go of his arse and grabbed the hair to pull it aside. Holding on to his hips again he preceded the rough fucking, enjoying the sight of Hephaestion’s curved buttocks and sweat glistening spine.

Sobbing with pleasure, Hephaestion came and his body jerked uncontrollably. Cleitus kept pumping until he too climaxed, gasping his lover's name.

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“You lost track of him?” Alexander stared at Ptolemy, who sighed back.

“He did not return to the whorehouse, it was someone else wearing his clothes at the whorehouse and the informer realised this belatedly. When they returned to the tavern, Hephaestion was gone. He had been warned in time.”

“Cleitus saw me. So it is my own fault, I suppose,” Alexander mused.

Ptolemy looked at him. “I honestly don't get your motives, Alexander. You can’t make up your mind on this matter and we are spending too much time fulfilling your desires.”

Alexander didn't reply at first. Then he looked at his brother. “Hephaestion weakens my strength. In all my waking hours, I’m thinking about him.”

“You’re not fit to handle him, Alexander. Give him up. If we force him back, he will end up killing himself. He almost managed, only thanks to Cleitus, he didn't slit his throat.”

Alexander nodded. “I know and look what it gave Cleitus,” he snorted.

“I don't think Hephaestion wants Cleitus. He was just a means to get away from you. You are chasing a dream that can never become a reality with the object of your affection...”

“You don't get I, Ptolemy. I want him but not from a sexual point of view, but because he is stronger than I, so I have to force him to submit, to accept I can dominate him.”

“With rape?”

“No... well... yes...”

They stared at each other. Alexander cringed seeing the disgust in Ptolemy’s eyes. “Fine, Alexander - but count me out. It is...”

“Please, it’s eating me up.”

“He will die because of your obsession! You should concentrate on domestic issues. War strategy. It is planned! We should start setting the machinery into work and move on.” Ptolemy cupped Alexander’s face. “Babylon seduces us with beauty and its presumable submission. It is becoming dangerous. You forget you have enemies still.”

Alexander nodded. “I can't leave now - he will be gone then – when I return. So I need to bring him along, even if I have to tie him to my bed.”

Ptolemy shook his head. “I can't be part of it. It’s your personal crusade.”

“You are my only hope, brother.”

“Cleitus claims not to know but he orchestrated what happened at the tavern. I suggest you turn to him.”

Alexander went and looked out the window. “Seductive city that you are,” he mumbled. “Temptress, whore. Is that me? Will I even be sated when you are truly conquered? I don't know what I want any more. I have wanted you, all of you, for so long that I can’t even figure out why.” Alexander made a grimace. “I just do... And yes, Ptolemy - it is an obsession.”

“But once you have him, everything turns ugly,” Ptolemy implored.

Alexander nodded and turned to look at Ptolemy. “I know... I just don't know why. I should be ecstatic, content, but then I see the repulsion, that he doesn't want to be the way I see things, and I just...” Alexander's eyes became angry. “Want to...”

“... hurt him,” Ptolemy finished his sentence.

Alexander turned and looked at the window. _Yes, I have always wanted to hurt him. Punish him for leaving me. And now I have the opportunity..._ Closing his eyes, he knew how sick he was and asked Ptolemy to leave. However, he bode him to send Cleitus to him when he returned... If - he returned.

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Cleitus returned to the palace the next morning; at his side was Hephaestion. Alexander looked at him, and then at Cleitus. “What does this mean?”

“Hephaestion Amyntor has accepted to be enlisted in the Macedonian army. Can you approve of that, my King?” Cleitus said formally.

Alexander got up, and stepped around Hephaestion who categorically avoided his gaze.

“Leave us, Cleitus.”

“Hephaestion?” Cleitus asked.

The younger man just nodded. Whatever Alexander was up to, he would have to take one step at the time.

After Cleitus left, Alexander addressed him. “This is the third time you enter my house. I wonder if I should brand you again. That way, if ever you were lost again, I can always claim you back, correct?”

Hephaestion assumed it was a rhetorical question. “You promised me a lot of things Alexander, half of it you mean well but never accomplish - the rest is bullshit and you make sure I get every ounce of that.”

Alexander smiled and nodded, “Well, you’re going to be a soldier now. That’ll give you bullshit all the time.”

“Great - no surprises then?” Hephaestion turned and looked directly at him.

Seeing how hard Hephaestion’s blue eyes had suddenly become, Alexander’s stomach clenched. “Why did the gods create you... so beautiful?”

“Hearing you say it makes it a curse; besides, I don't want to hear it from you.”

“What are you doing here, by the way? Hardly to enlist willingly.”

Hephaestion’s eyes narrowed, “I have had time to think and you,” he pointed at Alexander, “are no longer deciding how I spend my life. I am not going to fight your war. I am not a fucking soldier. I am a thief, and an opportunist and I can’t get into my... fucking head why I have let you take advantage of me. I feared you at first; I submitted to you because I sensed that was the wisest choice. But you turned familiar on me.” He was pacing the room now and Alexander knew he had better listen carefully. “You thought you knew me from childhood experiences. I bear _no_ resemblance of your romantic memories of me.”

A second later, he was all over Alexander, pinning his arms to the ground with one surprisingly strong hand, in the other hand, he held a dagger that now rested dangerously against the King's throat.

Shocked, Alexander realised a few things. They were alone, and Hephaestion could easily kill him. The man had proven agile enough to escape so many times by now that he probably would succeed once more.

“Did you come to kill me?”

Hephaestion gritted his teeth, but his hand was steady. 

“Was it a game?” Alexander continued. “Did you plan this?” Then he laughed, “Maybe I'm facing an assassin?” Hephaestion’s eyes revealed nothing as Alexander spoke. “Did you just wait to get close enough to me? Maybe that mark is fake?”

“Are you done rambling? I am who I am and this... is your own doing,” Hephaestion said.

Alexander's eyes didn't plea for his life.

“You want to die? _My_ Alexander?”

“No...”

“Is there anything that should prevent me from cutting your throat?”

“Probably not.”

“Prepare to die then, Alexander!”

“Very well!” Alexander said, seeing indifference film over Hephaestion’s eyes. “I will argue for my life.”

“What say you then?”

“I honestly believe my work here makes a difference. By combining these lands, I secure safety and prosperous living for those who bow to me.”

“Is that so? Didn't include me, did it?”

Alexander looked away. “You’re different.”

Anger rose in Hephaestion’s eyes, but he still controlled his temper in a fashion that scared, fascinated and impressed Alexander at the same time.

“I’m nothing special. I should have done this right from the start.”

“You kept your hands, Hephaestion! I saved your hands!”

“Yes! How conveniently you were there to interrupt in the name of the King! But you should know, Alexander, it would have happened at some time anyway. I'm destined to lose my hands. I’m low life scum.”

“I put a stop to that...”

Remembering the rape in the alley, Hephaestion laughed. “Then others will do it because it still happens out there. Someone not part of your security police performs hideous punishments in dark corners and I doubt I’ll get away with just a slap on the back.”

Alexander just nodded, paying attention to the changes he saw in Hephaestion eyes.

“Turn around,” Hephaestion said tonelessly. 

“What?” Alexander asked.

“I said: Turn around.”

Slowly, the King complied and as expected, he felt the dagger slice through his clothes.

Hephaestion’s hands were rough on his skin as he parted his cheeks. The sudden searing pain, as his opening was forcefully penetrated, caused him to scream out.

“That's how it feels to submit, Alexander. To be taken against your will,” Hephaestion snarled, his voice breaking.

The King grunted, trying to take it, but when Hephaestion’s hips moved, hard and precise, he cried out. The pain was severe.

Running his fingers through his curls, Hephaestion fisted the hair pulling his head back. “Does it hurt?” he mocked.

Alexander couldn’t answer, but yes, every thrust hurt terribly.

Abruptly, Hephaestion retreated, and roughly pushed Alexander down. “Turn!”

Slowly, Alexander gathered his wits and did as the man said. 

“Move forward,” Hephaestion demanded, adrenalin singing in his veins. He grabbed the blond by the hair once more and put the dagger across his throat. “Open up!”

Alexander swallowed. The blood and stains on Hephaestion’s cock bore witness to the act he had committed. Closing his eyes, Alexander opened his mouth and soon Hephaestion thrust inside. The taste of his own blood and excrement made Alexander gag.

“Taste your own bullshit.” Hephaestion felt his orgasm approached rapidly and a few more thrusts triggered his release. 

Retreating, he ejaculated all over Alexander's face and pushed him away.

Shivering violently, Hephaestion felt dizzy as adrenalin shook his body. He tried to step out of the bed, but his legs could hardly support him. Watching him, Alexander was shaken to the core. Hephaestion was still holding the dagger. 

Wincing visibly, Alexander crawled out of the bed and neared Hephaestion. He fell on his knees and dragged Hephaestion down with him.

“This must stop!”

“Yes...” Hephaestion began coughing so violently that bile pressed to his throat and he retched on the floor next to him.

Alexander tried to comfort him. “I don't know what to do,” he said, grabbing Hephaestion's hands, despite him still holding the dagger.

Hephaestion felt drained and the dagger fell to the floor. Neither picked it up and Alexander crushed him in his arms, pressing his body close. 

“Quit it!” Hephaestion hissed, feeling Alexander's hands already travel down his body and under his tunic. “Fucking let go of me, you brainless man!”

Finally, finding the strength to push the King away, they both fell on their backs, panting. Managing to stand on his feet, Hephaestion took up the dagger and focusing on Alexander, his wild eyes looked for a reason to end the life of this tormented creature who once thought he loved him, and then left the palace.

His eyes were filled with tears. He should have killed the King, and then Cleitus would find him and have to end Hephaestion’s miserable life. He stumbled into his current lodgings, but the girl wouldn’t let him in.

“You look mad. Get out!” She said.

Exhausted, he slid down a wall opposite of the house. The sun baked down on his head as consciousness slipped away.

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“He tried to kill you?” Cleitus stared into Alexander’s gaunt face.

The King nodded. 

“After I left, he put a dagger to your throat?” Cleitus continued, knowing what this meant to Hephaestion’s destiny.

Alexander nodded again. He hadn't said anything about the rape. He deserved that one. “I'm thinking about forgetting him. I have neglected my duties and we should start launching the campaign. I’m sure Darius is comfortable thinking that I will not pursue him, but wherever he’s hiding, he won’t be safe any longer. We will find him and Persia will be mine.”

Cleitus noticed that Alexander couldn't meet his eyes. “Something’s bothering you. You say you want to forget him, but you can't, right?”

“I have to. I’m possessed by him and if I see him again, we’ll end up fighting until one of us no longer stands on his feet.”

Saying nothing, Cleitus just picked at a nail, waiting. 

“I think he has become crazy,” Alexander said, and his voice betrayed something else. Fear maybe.

Cleitus laughed with a snort, “Well, congratulations, Alexander, because he was quite sane when we forced him to stay here the first time!”

Alexander went to sit behind his desk. “I admit we did terrible things to him.” He laughed bitterly then scoffed, “And even though I just said I'm going to forget him, I still want him. It’s a disease.”

Looking at Cleitus, he asked, “Gather my staff. We need to go through the campaign, have logistics organised and,” Alexander went through some documents on his desk. Then he smiled, “I need to get my desk organised as well. Can't find anything anymore!”

Cleitus motioned to leave and Alexander asked softly, “You're going to him, later, aren't you?”

Cleitus thought over his answer very carefully. “I doubt he can be found anymore, Alexander. I'm sure he has hidden himself well this time. What he did is punishable by death. You know that. Not just chopped limbs.”

Alexander cried out, “Well, if his hands and feet were missing, he couldn’t escape me anymore, right?”

Cleitus frowned and said, “No, I expect he could not.” A grotesque picture entered his mind: Hephaestion, lying spread eagle in Alexander's bed, naked, gagged, with no hands and feet; forever just a body to fuck at leisure. Shaking his head free of the horrific image, he hurriedly left.

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After the staff meeting, everybody was in a splendid mood. Cleitus changed out of uniform and went to the city. He hoped to find Hephaestion at the dancer’s house, but she said she had thrown him out, that he scared her.

“Why did he scare you?”

“His eyes looked empty and I didn't understand a word he said to me. It was like a foreign language.”

Cleitus’ mouth slowly opened. “Greek?”

“Could be...” She shrugged.

Cleitus spoke a sentence in Greek, and she nodded surprised. “Yes! It sounded exactly like that.”

Thanking her, Cleitus left her. Stepping outside, he wondered. “Greek... so you speak in Greek now?” He wondered if Hephaestion suddenly had gotten his memory back? That could be very dangerous, if he was bordering on insanity at the same time or because of it. If he remembered what had happened to him in captivity... well, Cleitus didn’t dare draw any conclusion to that. He had to find him quickly. Only where? 

His attention was soon captured by a flock of noisy lads. Frowning, Cleitus neared the victim of their bullying. It didn't take long for him to recognise him. 

Hephaestion sat like the last time Cleitus found him: immobile, speechless. The children were teasing him, pulling his hair, and went through his pockets, but he didn't react.

Chasing the kids away, Cleitus squatted in front of him. “Come. Let's go, Hephaestion.”

Automatically, Hephaestion took his hand and allowed Cleitus to take him to the whorehouse. The women there protested, but Cleitus didn't care and put the younger man back in the room he had used prior.

Hephaestion clung to him, and after a while, Rayma brought them food. They ate quietly. Hephaestion seemed to be more alert. 

“I don't want to find you dead in the streets, Hephaestion.”

Looking sadly at Cleitus, the younger man replied, “And I don't want to die there, but I feel the path has been laid already.”

Cleitus mused for a while, and then he bent his head and kissed him. Their lips parted and Cleitus whispered, “You realise you just spoke in Greek?”

Hephaestion looked down, but then his clear gaze met Cleitus’ black eyes. “I never really forgot it. I think in Greek sometimes and it has become more frequent since spending much time with Macedonians.” Then he grew silent. That wasn’t all. Some things had occurred to him. All day – since he left Alexander’s quarters, he had been bombarded with strange images, school, boys, nothing in particular, but lapses of training and playing with other boys, of peace and most of all: of joy. He felt sadness afterwards and assumed it was a reaction to how it all changed into the opposite: despair. 

Maybe that was what was wrong with him? He was letting himself remember too much of the bad things he had been subjected to. He felt how his own personality had been pushed aside to try and survive on a turf so unknown to him. He wasn’t used to the sophisticated ways of enforcement that Alexander had applied to him. He could hardly remember what happened at the castle today; only it slowly came back to him. Just as viciously as what had been done to him. Then Cleitus interrupted his dark thoughts.

“We're going to locate Darius. Only then, Alexander is the true conqueror of Persia.”

Hephaestion picked at a fold in Cleitus’ chiton. “You’re leaving me?”

“I'm afraid I’m foremost a soldier, not a nurse or lover.”

“I’m coming with you, Cleitus.”

“No, baby. If you show yourself, you’ll be executed for trying to assassinate the King.”

Hephaestion looked intensely on a fleck in the fabric. “Oh... He told you?”

“Yes, he told me.”

“Ah, but I didn’t really assassinate him, now did I? He’s still among the living. Did he also tell you I raped him?”

Their eyes met, Hephaestion’s blue eyes tempestuous and raw. 

Cleitus’ heart skipped and his voice broke, “No...” Grabbing Hephaestion’s busy fingers, he whispered, “Fuck, you little fool.” They hugged, and then he said, “No, he didn’t tell me, but I sensed he had something like that on his mind, only not wanting to share.” Shaking his head, Cleitus said, “I don't blame him.”

“I didn't plan it. It just... I was so angry with him, wanted to hurt the bastard for hurting me repeatedly. Let him feel what his actions do to people.”

“Still - ”

“I'll take my chances. He can execute me or give me amnesty. I need closure,” Hephaestion said dramatically.

“All right then. We will go back tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Hephaestion whispered, grabbing Cleitus’ hand and put it under his clothes, letting the fingers curls around his cock. “You do realise that it doesn't matter if I’m executed really. I never expected to grow old anyway. Thieves rarely do,” he smiled and Cleitus couldn’t but return such beauty a smile of his own.

“Hush! I'm busy here.” Cleitus said.

Hephaestion smiled and spread his legs wider. His cock arched beautifully against his stomach. “There is no way I can avoid Hades. Eventually, I will be knocking on his door,” Hephaestion said and touched Cleitus’ black hair. “So... one last time, my love...”

 

End of Tale 15th of March 2006


End file.
